. ' k1 b B d! dAdsms Pl
Vol.XVIII. £53. “Wis: ESQLJAM;_I°§E; 32m ' unwan. No. 225.

 

 

 

 

 

 

IN AGONY OF TERROR IMPOSSIBLE T0 DESCRIBE. FORBES SAW THE TERRIBLE FACE OF THE “LAG ’
CLOSE TO HIS.

 

Night-hawk Bill.

 

Night-hawk Bill:

The New York Sportsman’s Glew.

BY W. J. HAMILTON,

anruoa on “THE BOY sonvuvoa," “ZEBRA
zaox,” “m Boar’s MASK," “SAM, run
‘ swan? scour," “ THE YOUNG-
TRAILER,” am, ETC.

CHAPTER I.
ran LIGHTNINGcBOLT.

Tm: scene opens in the midst of a wooded
cgnptry to the northwest of the great lake
c a n.

A young man, admirably mounted, and dress-
ed in a green hunting—suit, was riding slowly
throu h a forest road, upon which great trees
had alien, actually blocking up the path. The
road itself was indented by many hoof-marks,
but not a single wagon-track, showing that
the country was as yet in the hands of the
borderers, who, in most cases, had neglected
to remove the fallen trees, preferring to leap
their horses over them to the trouble of using
the ax.

The young horseman had a frank, good-
humored, though not exactly handsome face,
was ion of limb and “ well set up." and, taken
all‘toget er, was a person who could have held
his own well in any contest. He carried a short
rifle slung at his back, pistols in the holsters,
and a bunch in his left side, beneath the coat,
showed where a more dangerous weapon lay
concealed—the revolver.

He rode on at a slow trot, glancing now and
then through the thick leaves overhead, where
the clouds were already gathering, betokenin
the coming storm. Noticing this, he toucbe

his horse/to hasten his pace, and had just legged
a

a fallen tree, when two horsemen round

point of woods and approached him. They were
men of the border stamp, hard-featured, sinewy
fellows, of that peculiar class at whose appear—
ance a stranger on a lonely road instinctively
lays his hand upon a weapon. As they came on
they serrated and attempted to pass one on
one si a; but the youn horseman was up to
that trick and deliberate y rained his horse to
the right-hand side of the road, so that no one
could pass on that side. The two horsemen
pulled up and looked at him threateningly.

“ We are the border breed, stranger.” said the
one on the left hand, “ and we don't’low no new
man to have his own way always.”

“ Ride on about your business, men,” replied
the young horseman, in a sharp, quick tone.
“ It will be better for you to do so.”

“ You crow pretty loud, stranger,”re lied the
man, sullenly, at the same time putting is hand
to his breast-pocket.

“ Put down our hand!” cried the horse-
man, suddenly rawing and cooking a revol-
ver. “ Do it at once, both of you, or you are
dead men!”

Facing both men, he could have shot them

 

down before it would have been possible for
either to draw a weapon.

“Pshaw, stranger!" whined the spokesman;
“can’t you take a joke? We was only fooling
with on.”

“ hen ride on about your business, and leave
me to attend to mine. I have no uarrel with
you, and you would make little, eyond my
horse and arms, by trying to rob me.”

“ You ain’t very com limentary to us,
stranger,” said the man. ‘I didn’t mean no
harm, I am sure. Why, what do you take
us for?”

“ For a couple of precious villains, who dare
not carry out their plan of robbery. Now,
listen to me. You see the road straight before
you foraquarter of a mile. Put your hands
above your heads, and ride on, without turning
your heads.”

It was an awkward position, and they chafed
under it; but the eye of the horseman warned
them that he meant business, and they rode
away with their hands in the required position,
unti satisfied that they were out of pistol—
ran e, when one of them reached for his rifle.
In oing so, he saw that the young man had
put back the revolver. and sat coolly in the
saddle, with his “ Henry ” rifle at the full cock,
evidently both ready and willing to fire at them
if they dared to turn.

“ Drop it, Bill," said the borderman to
his companion. “He’s got one of them cussed
repeating rifles, and he’s on the shoot or I don’t
know anything about aman’s eye. But, thunder
and lightning! How kin we let such a boss as
that git away from us? He’s worth a thousand
dollars in Kansas City.”

“Never you mind. Jake ” said the other.
“ The young whelp can’t ge out of the kentry,
and I’ve marked him down. I’ll have him, if I
have to foller him to Omaha. the fighting-
chickenl No man ever c0wed Bill Brace down
that way before, and if he don’t get a blue pill
beforea week has passed over his head. then
spit in my face and call me a liar, that’s all.
The Hawks will have him, sure.”

As he said this the two men, putting their
horses to their speed, hurried on; and, seeing
that he had nothing more to dread from them,
the young man reslung his rifle, turned his
horse’s head and went on his way. His horse
had not taken a dozen leaps, however, when he
started suddenly aside as a white apparition
flitted through the bushes by the wayside and
was gone.

“Halt. there!” cried the horseman. “Halt,
or I fire.”

No answer was returned, and he went on his
wav musingly. He was satisfied that the figure
he had seen was a woman’s form. but, what was
she doing in this wild place? and where had she
gone? Just then the storm which had been
rapidly culminating. burst upon him in wild
fury. The murky face of the heavens was
lighted up by repeabd flashes of lightning, the
crash of thunder was absolutely fearful, and it
required the utmost effort of his skill to restrain
his frantic horse. Louder and louder peals of
thunder followed; then a great dry pine, not a
hundred yards away, was riven from crest to
base by a lightning-bolt, and burst into sudden

;

 

 

Night-hawk Bill. 3

 

flame, which ran up the dry tree to its very top,
lighting up the scene. And there at the base of
the tree, lay the white figure Which he had seen.
motionless as death! He was now engaged in a
frantic struggle with his horse, for the noble
beast, driven half mad by the crashing of the
thunder and the lurid gleam of the li htning,
could hardly be restrained, and oulyt a most
consummate horsemanship enabled the young
man to keep his seat.

After a struggle of five minutes’ duration, he
succeeded in calming the frantic horse, and in
forcing him nearer the white object upon the
ground beneath the tree. He was now near
enough to see that it was a woman lying sense-
less on the sod, and that she had fallen by some
sudden and terrible blow, probably by the shock

which had riven the pine asunder, and set it in

a blaze. .

Without thinking lon er of keeping the horse.
he sprung from the sad la and ran to the side of
the fallen woman, and uttered a low cry of sur-
prise as his eyes fell upon her. It was a girlish
figure, clad in a simple white muslin dress, evi-
dently one of the poorest class of people, but
there was something unearthly in her beauty as
she lay there at his feet.

There was no time to hesitate, for fragments
were falling all about them from the burning
pine. Lifting the light form in his arms. he
carried her rapidly down the road to a more
open space. Reaching the open space, the young
man do ited his burden upon a grassy knoll,
and as 8 did so, felt somethm cold touch the
hack of his neck. It was t e muzzle of his
horse, which in this way sought to attract the
attention of his master.

“ Ha, old horse!” he said, “you don't Want to
leave me, after all. Great heavens. if this poor
child should be dead! It seems so terrible—one
so beautiful and oung.”

He knelt besi 6 her, chafing the cold hands
and bathing her face and no~trils in spirits
which he poured from his flask. An hour pass—
ed, and he still bent above the beautiful girl,
striving to bring her back to life.

He searched in his saddle-bags and found a
small hand~mirror set into the back of ahair-
brush, and held it over the unconscious girl’s
lips waiting for the lightning to 11' ht up the
sky again. But, when it came, he ound it im-
gossible to say whether or not her breath had

lurred the glass.

The rain now began to fall in flu-rents, and he
had not yet succeeded in brinc'ing her back to
life. He must find some shelter for her from
the pitiless storm. Even if dead, he could not
bear the thought of seeing one so levely lying
drenched and cold 'upon the grass. Springing
to his feet, he looked hastily about him and saw
a great rocky bluff or niche a few rods distant.
and ran toward it, hoping to find among the
rocks some shelter from the storm. A project-
ing shelf ran out from the crest of the ridge,
and there was a space some four feet wide un-
derneath which seemed to be dry. He ran back
and carried his inanimate charge to this wel-
come shelter, while the dumb beast followed
him as before.

There was a blanket strapped behind the sad-
dle, and taking this on he wrapped the girl in

 

its folds, and as he did so became conscious that
the warmth of her body had not left it. He
placed his hand close to her mouth and uttered
a cry of delight as he felt the evidence, sli ht
but conclusive, that she still breathed. he
strong man dropped upon his knees beside her
and actually burst into tears. She was say
now, if he could hcep her warm, and he wrap-
ped the blanket more closely about her' then
seating himself in such a fashion as to shelter
her as much as possible from the cold wind
which now began to blow, he continued to bathe
her face in the spirits.

Directly after she stirred a little, and he heard
a faint sweet voice whisper:

“ Father.”

He made no reply.

“Conrad. is it you?"

Still he did not speak.

“Where am I? Who brought me to this
place? I saw the blinding flash. felt a terrible
shock, and after that——a blank. Who holds me?
Why do you not speak?”

“Keep quiet, dear lady,” said the young man.
“ You are still weak, and the least exertion
may do you harm.”

‘ I must See your face,” she said, softly,
“but your voice is good. Let one touch your
haud.’ '

Their hands met in the darkness and for a
moment a delicious silence rei ned.

“ It is the hand of a g man—one who
would not do a woman wrong to save his life. '
I trust you as I would my brother."

“You may,” replied the young man, impul-
sively. “ No matter how much I ma fail in
all else, I hope I am a man of honor. on are
safe with me.” ‘ '

“ What is your name?”

“ Harry Sanderson.”

“ Your nation?"

“A Yankee, blood and bones—one who would
peril any thing for the sake of the dear old flag.”

“Good; a native of what State?"

“ A New Yorker. forced by a chain of cir-
cumstances which I cannot control to come to
western Kansas.”

“ You must think me very inquisitive but I
feel impelled to ask these question. What is

your age?”

“ Twenty—six. I will tell you all about my’
self. I am a. ph sician graduated two years
ago from the Al any Medical College in the
State of New York, law alone in the world.
My mother died when I was but a. child, and
my father, noble old man, came to Kansas
eighteen months ago, and has not been heard
from since.”

He felt the girl start suddenly, but she did not
speak for a moment. >

“ You have come to search fogyour father?”

H Yes." I

“ Have you any claw?”

At best but slight ones, yet upon this alight
ground I will follow him and never leave 03 the
search until I have found my father or know
that he is dead. Now that I have told you this, ‘
may I ask you some questions?” -

“ You must ask me nothing.” the girl replied.
“ I am one whom it is not safe for you to know,
one whom to follow would bring you into the

  

 

4 Night-hawk Bill.

 

 

test danger. You have saved my life. I

now it and am grateful for it, and I can Show

my gratitude in no better way than in counsel-
ing you to leave me and never see me more."

‘ But I cannot do that. I must see you again
——-must know who you are and prove to you that
I am not utterly unworthy of your regard."

“ Hush," she said, softly. “ What you speak
of can never be, for it you saw me as I am and
knew me for what I am, perhaps you would
despise me. Promise that you will go away
from this section and never come back."

“ You ask too much,” he sail, moodily. “ I
have a mission to perform, and must do my
work. If my father is dead I must know it,
and how he died as well. If by violence, I shall
know how to take vengeance upon his Slayers."

She shook off the blanket which was still
wrapped about her, and arose. The storm hurl
now ceased, the clouds were breaking away, and
the moon came riding out in the clear sky. Her
face Was more beautiful than ever, now that her
color was coming back. but there was a touch of
anger in it as she looked at him.

‘ How can on hope to find your father,
when, as you te 1 me, you have no clew?”

“ Patience and perseverance will do much,” he
ans vered, quietly. “ I am not the man to sue-
cutnh to shell t iuls and dangers.”

“ Annette!" cried a. harsh voice not far away.
“ Nettie, I savl where are you?”

Hurry woulzl have spoken, but the girl put her
hand upon his mouth, and he understood that he
mmt keep silent.

“ That is a mm whom you must not meet,
whom you must not know.” she whispered. “ I
an (min,r aww. and probably we shall never
meet again; but I shall keep your name in my
heart. anl bless it to my dying day. Good-by,
anl Heaven bless you."

The voice was main hcnrxl callingr the name of
Nettie, and seemed to be approaching. Ho
seized her hand and kis~1e<l it, but the next mo-
ment she had snatched it from him and disco
poured in the gloom, and he heard her answering
the call or the newcomer.

“ This way. curse itl” cried the voice. “ A
Eretty time for a. man to turn out to look for a

eadstrong girl who ought to know better.
Where are you!”

“ Here I am,” she answered. “ I was forced
to seek a shelter from the storm.”

They moved away together, the man grum-
blimz and Annette endeavorinz to pacify him.

“A strange adventure,” muttered Hurrv, as
the voices died away in the distance. “ \Vell, I

can go no further tonight: and now for a camp.”

‘He took a larint from his saddle-how and
Elcketed the horse by the sirle of the wool.

his done, he smokerl a pin: or two, and then,
wrapping his blanket about him, lay down be—
;math the progecting shelf and slept until morn-

ng.

 

CHAPTER II.

THE CENTER. 8301‘.

IT came bright and clear, the rain of the pre
ceding night having completely cleared the at-
mosphere. The Young man hastilv partmk of
an early breakfast from some cold meat and

 

“ pone {bread which he had in his saddle-bags.
This, with a draught of cold water from the
stream near by, completed his meal, and he was
ready to pursue his way. He had just risen and
was tightening the strap of his sadde«bags, when
the sound of horses’ boots and a clear mellow
whistle broke the Silence of the place, and a
sharp—looking lad, perhaps fifteen years of ago,
rode up at a. smart center.

“ I say, my boy,” said Harry, “ how far do
you call it to the next house?”

“ Public, do you menu? We ain‘t got many
of that sort in this section.”

“ No, a house of any kind. I want to make
my headquarters at some place near by, and am
ready to ply for the privilege.”

“ You'd better come to our house, then,” said
the boy. “ That is, if you can put up with com-
mon fare, for we are plain people out here.”

“ I don’t care about the accommodations, and
will pay as well as if they were of the best.
What I want is to get acquainted about here, in
order to prosecute an inquiry I am obliged to
make.”

“Then, see here,” said the boy. “ I can show
you a chance to get acquainted that you won't
be likely to have aguin soon. There‘s a “ ven-
rlue” up the country about three miles, and
they are going to have a barbecue, and heaps of
fun, and all the men will be there for miles
around. Why not go with me and intro luce
yourself to the people?”

“Capital, my lad," said Harry. eagerly;
” your plan is a ood one, and it really matters
very little where go, so long as I am doing my
work. I am with you.”

He sprung at once into the saddle, and the
two rode back over the path which he had pur-
sued the night before. Traces of the destruc-
tive course of the storm became more and more
plain as they proceeded. Trees had fallen in

rent numbers, and in Some cases they were
orcetl to ride roun'i through the woods toes-
cape a chrome: de frise of fallen timber in the
path. After riding about two miles the boy
turned 03’ to the right, with Harry by his side.

“ Now let us understand one another, my
boy,” said Harry, after having given the buy
his name and profession. “I think it best not
to mention my business in this vicinity. Let it
be thought that I am a young sportsman in
search of adventure, hunting, fishing and the
like. and i will tell you at some other time who I
am seal-chin: for. What is Vour name!”

“Jim Sedley. I’m awake, too, Mr. Sander-
son, and I reckon they won‘t make any too
much out of questioning me. By Jinks, they
are comingr in fa .”

They had now reached a place where they
coul'l command quite a view of the surrounding
country. About a mile below was a. “four cor-
ners ” and two or three houses. and quite a group
0f men Wore ulrmdv congregated there, while
manv mounted men couch be seen coming in by
the different mods. to attend the “ vendue-
What is n “ vendor?" ,

The term comes from the law phrase “public
vendue." and applies to a sale of miscellaneous
articles at auction. In the border States they
are vorv common, and largely attended, as in
the present case, and are generally made a

 

  

       

 

  

   

not; ‘4.“ _

Night-hawk Bill. ' 5

 

holiday, the young men engaging in field-sports
of all kinds, while the heads of families come
to! drive a good bargain in anything which may
0 er.

“Our boys are a rough lot, stranger,” said
Jim Sedley, “ and you must not try to put on
any style over them. Be as frank and freeas

on like, take hold with the rest in the fun, and

hey’ll take to you; but, trynto put on any
‘ French airs,’ and they won’t suited.”

The two rode down to the cross-roads, and
dismounted in front of what proved to be a
small tavern. The groups of tough-looking
border-era looked hard at the stranger, and
there was a slight movement of surprise as
Harry showed in his hearing that he was from
New York, and a stranger is quite an event
among these unlettered men.

" I’ll take care of the bosses, Mr. Sanderson,”
said Jim. “ You stay here until I come back.
Joe Bagley, here 1"

“Joe,” said Sedley, “ this is Mr. Hurry San-
derson. a youn sportsman from New York,
come out to nsas to see slittle fun. You
take care of him while I am gone, will you?”

“ Looks as ef he won’t be able to take keer of
himself,” said Joe, as they shook hands. “Glad
to see you Mr. Sanderson- always glad tosee
stran ers rom New Yor , to bring us the
news. ’

At this moment a man passed who looked
hard at Harry who in turn recognized the fel—
low who had een spokesman in the meeting
of the day before.

“ Who is that man?” said Harry.

“ That's‘Night—hawk Bill, a mighty hard nut.
if I do say it. He and I will have it hot an’
heav one of tthe fine days.”

“ ask the question because I had a quarrel
with him yesterday," said Harry. “It even

.went so far that we were forced to draw Wea-

pons. but I persuaded him to move on.”

Alo‘okof delight came into the face of the
hunter.

“I knowed it, stranger; I were sart’in of it.
I knowed you wa’n’t no chicken when you let
Ker angry passhins rise. Bill is one of the Night-

awks.”

“ Who are the Night-hawks?” asked Harry.

“They claim ter be hunters an’ Lrappers but
I don’t swallow it. Et thefi wouldn‘t steal
horses I don’t want a cent, an’ ill Brace is one
of ’em. What did the mean cuss want?”

“ It was simply a question whether or not I
would ride between two armed strangers on a
lonely road,” said Harry, carelessly. “ I ob-
jected, and he saw the force of my reasoning.”

“P’inted, I‘ll bet,” said Joe. “ Showel a
barker on him, didn’t ye?”

“ I was obli ed to do so.”

“ I wish we ad something sart’in to call out
Judge Lynch on,” said Joe, “but the devil is
mighty keerful. We can’t trace anything to
him or any of the shy birds he consorts with.
Now you notice who I shake hands with as we
go through the crowd, and the men I don’t
re-cognize in that way ain’t the sort you want
to know: you understand?”

“ All right; go ahead.”

They moved about among the people, and
with most of them Joe, who had but just come,

 

exchanged greetings, but with some he was very
cold, passing them with a careless nod. Among
others was the companion of Bill Brace, whom
Joe did not recognize at all. Harry made the
acquaintance of quite a number of men before
Jim Sedley cane back with his father—a broad—
slhouldered, middle-aged man in plain homespun
ress.

“ Jim tells me that you want to put up at my
house for a few weeks, sir,” said Mr. Sedley,
after they had shaken hands. “You are wel-
come, hearty; that’s all I can say.”

“ Much obliged, Sir. I must stay in this sec-
tion for a while, and as your son made the offer,
I was very glad to accept it.”

The vendue would not come off for an hour,and
in the mean time they walked out on a meadow
to Witness an exhibition of skill in riflepractice,
which was already going on. They were firing
at a blaze in a tree about two hundred yards dis-
tant, and although some capital shots had been
made, no one had succeeded in touching the
center. At this moment a young man in a
somewhat rich dress for aman in that region—
a hunting-suit of dark cloth~advancedand took
position at the stand. He did not seem to- take
a careful aim, but, raising his rifle, quickly
pulled the trigger.

“ Missed the tree,” cried a voice behind them.
“ Missed it altogether!”

“ Who says that?" cried the marksman, turn—
ing a savage look at the speaker.

“ No, no,” said Joe Bagley. “ Conrad is a
good shot and unless I’m very much mistaken
you will find the bullet in the white.”

So it proved upon examination, for the bullet
had entered the tree within an inch of the cen-
ter, the best shot of the day, so far.

“ That is something like shooting,” cried the,
sncccessful marksman. “ I can shoot letter than
any man in Kansas, and I’ll wager fifty dollars
on it. 7

" Oh, pshaw,” said Joe. “ Don't brag too .
much, Conrad Thurston, or like ’nulf I’ll take
up the iron myself.”

Conrad! Hurry remembered that when An-
nette heard the voice calling her, the night be-
fore, she had spoken that name. He looked
closely at the successful rifleman, and saw a
handsome follow about his own age, a perfect
specimen of physical grace. He was a trifle be-
low six feet in hight, with smoothly—chiseled
features, a fierce black eye, and thin, cruel-
looking lips. In spite of his prepossessin ap-

arance, Harry ielt an instinctive disli e of

im, but his aftention was called away as Joe
took his rifle, angry at the taunts of Conrad,
and advanced to the shooting—stand. He, ton,
fired uickly and succeeded in making a good
shot, 3 though not nite so ood as Thurston‘s.

“I told you so,’ said nrad, as the result
was announced. “ I can [eat an man—any
mun, mind, now in the State of sue—for a
hundred dollars. Who is for ducats'! Who has
any conceit of his shooting? Have you, Jack
Phelps—you, Walton—Fletcher—King? You
have no pluck or money amon you."

“ Wait a moment.” said arr . “ I don’t
want to bet, neither will I do so, at I should
like a shot at that target.”

Thurston turned upon him with a superchious

 

 

 

  

6

 

Night-hawk Bill.

  

 

smile upon his face. The idea of a man from
the States offering to shoot against some of the
best marksmen o the West was to him simply
ridiculous, and if the truth must be told, those
who were friendly with Harry thought him
somewhat presumptuous.

“ I don't want to do anything against the
rules.” said Harry, “but if none of you object,
I will take a shot.”

“You are welcome to shoot,” said Thurston
comtem tuously, stepping aside to give him
room. hen turning to Joe, he said, in a tone
loud. enough to be heard by every one~~“ I’ll bet
you five dollars that he does not touch the
white.”

“I’ll risk five on him,” said Joe, producing a
greasy wallet. “ I don’t allow any one of the

hurston breed to back me down. That’s bluf—
flngflou know, old hose.”

‘ eke it twenty, then.”

“ Twenty it is I” said Joe, placing the amount
in the hands of a. friend. “ Cover it.”

Thurston did so, laughing at the thought of so
easily winning the hunter’s money.

Harry, with his own rifle, walked to the stand—
ing-spot and fired, seemingly elf—hand. No one
in the crowd thought it possible that he could
have touched the tree at all until they heard the
dull “ thud” of the bullet. The markers ran
to the tree, and every one waited for their de-
cisiou.

“Center!” cried one of the markers, holding
up his hand. The bullet had struck the white
between those planted by Thurston and Joe,
directly in the center of the blaze! Nothing was
so calculated’to win the good-will of bordermen
as a successful shot, and they crowded about
Harry to congratulate him, each one grieved
at heart that he had not taken Conrad Thur-
ston’s bet.

“ It was all an accident,” cried Thurston.
“Any man could see that he did not take aim."

Harry begun to be nettled by this con-
gnfdt] on the part of a stranger, and spoke up

0, y: .

“I don’t think it was an accident,” he said.
“I can hit such a mark as that, barring acci-
dents, nine times out of ten, but it is not a first-
class test. “ Let us take our stand further off,
and I will shoot again.”

They withdrew to two hundred and fifty yards
from the mark, and Thurston, as before, made
an excellent shot, planting his bullet near the
center.

“Hold on,” he said, as Harry step d to his
place. “ I want to bet you a hundr that you
do not beat that shot.”

’ “I never bet,” replied Harry. coldly. “'And
1 would not advise any one to risk their money
on me, as I may fail.” ,

“ I never take water,” cried Joe. “ If he beats,
a few more beaver have got to die for it,
that’s all. I’m your boy, Conrad, on that hun-

In its 9! the protestations of Harry, who
knew ow little an accident might spoil the shot,
the money was at u , cleaning out the greasy
wallet complete y. arr step to his place
with a smile upon his lip, on t the rifle to his
shoulder and glanced along t a brown barrel.
The rifle cracked and the markers darted to the

 

 

tree and searched for the bullet, but they seemed
to be in doubt, and Conrad laughed.

“ He has missed completely.” he cried. "' We
don't allow any men to come out from New
York and beat us at our own game.”

Harry had dropped his rifle into the hollow
of his arm and was looking steadily toward the
target.

“ Don’t give up that money yet," he said,
“for, unless I am very much mistaken, on will
find my second bullet over the first. rarely
miss at that distance.”

Half a dozen men started for the tree and be-
gan to dig out the bullet, and Conrad, accom-
panied by J oe, being especially interested in the
result, hurried after them. A few moments'
work with knives revealed the fact that there
were, indeed, two bullets imbedded in the tree,
one exactly above the other. Thurston uttered
a furious oath; his face became livid with pas-
sion, and he turned savagely upon Joe Bugley,
who was laughing.

“ Don’t drive me too far, Bagley, or I might
ask you to take a walk with me.”

“If you did, like enufl? I’d go,” replied Joe.
“ Take keer what you do, Con Thurston; I ain’t
the man to be threatened for nothing.”

“ As for you, young man.” Thurston added,
turning upon Harry, “ you may find this a very
unhealthy section to 11Ve in, and a very easy
place to die in.”

“Hush, Con.” whispered Bill Brace, pushing
him back. “ Do you want to bring a hornets’
nest about our ears? Don't mind what he says.
stranger. He is vexed because you beat him at
his own game.”

“I have no quarrel with him,” said Harry.
“ and should not have taken art in the shootin
if I had thought it would me 6 had blood, an
shall certainly shoot no more.”

Thurston was hurried away by his friends,
and though he was defiant for a time, he sud-
denly cooled down when Bracewhispered some-
thing in his ear. Soon after he disap ared,
and Harry walked away with Joe Bag ey, the
center of an admiring crowd.

“ He‘s a good plucked ’un, ’ said an old settler.
“ Come on, boys, there’s the omen coming out
and the vendue is gomg to begin."

As he spoke a number of horses were let into
the inclosure, and the auctioneer mounted a
stump and began the sale.

 

CHAPTER III.
THE MASONIC rm.

IT is needless to recount the manner of the
sale, which was conducted in the usual way, by
an erratic genius from the State of Maine, who
assumed a roughness of demeanor and talk suit-
ed to the party to whom he was speaking. Iflis
broad allusions and coarse wit were hailed With
shouts of laughter from the assembled crowd,
who were delighted when some individual re-
tired withiu himself after a. trial of wit with the
sharp Yankee auctioneer. The horses went of!
rapidly, and every one supposed the sale over,
when the auctioneer again called their attention
to something which he held in his hand.

“ Gentlemen,” he said, “I now offer you for
sale an article which has been placed in my

 

 
  
 

   

"Lu. \.

“‘*’!

Night-hawk Bill. 7

 

hands for disposal, by a gentlemnn who has no
use for it, as he is not entitled to wear it. I
may say that it is a beautiful Masonic pin, the
rare workmanship of which would excite the
admiration of any judge of the artistic and
would be especially-prized by one who be ongs
to the great order of Freemasonry. It combines
within itself all the emblems of importance in
the degree of Malta, and is a wonder of art in
every respect. I know those among you who
are entitled to wear it, and to such only will I
sell it, for I would not think it pro r for a man
to wear it who had not the rig t to do so. I
wish you would look at it, sir.”

He placed the pin in the hands of Harry San-
derson, who had no sooner looked at it than he
started and turned as pale as death.

“ I know this pin, sir,” he cried, in a hoarse,
strained voice. “ Where did you get it?”

“ I am hardly at liberty to tell you that,” re—
plied the auctioneer. “ After I have seen the
gentleman who placed it in. my hands for sale,
not half an hour since, I will tell who he is.
Make a bid in on the article.”

“ One hun red dollars,” cried Harry, prompt-
l

y.

The auctioneer stared, for the young man had
named about the full value of the pin. But he
went on with the sale, and it was knocked down
to Harry without competition. who secured his
prize and called Mr. Sedley away from the
crowd to show it to him.

“ Do you see this?” he whispered. “ I will
tell you why I am here. and then you will un-
derstand my emotion when I saw this beautiful
emblem. My father, Colonel Sanderson, came
to Kansas over eighteen months ago in search
of a man who had wronged him. I heard of
him in a village not thirty miles away, but
from that time to this, I have not seen his face
her heard from him. My father was a Mason,
and when he went away he wore this pin. This
is a clew I must unravel."

I“ 3?! Do you think that he has had foul—
ay.

“ I know it. If he were alive I should have
heard from him long ago. I have given my life
to the task of avenging him upon the villains
who have robbed and murdered him.”

‘~‘ “ What sort of a man was your father? In
looks, I mean?”

“ Six feet high, straight as an arrow, fifty
years of age, with iron-gray whiskers and nuns
tache. As noble a man in appearance as you
ever beheld."

Sedley struck his hand sharply on his thigh.

“ I have seen him, as I live, he cried. “ Eigh—
teen months ago such a man as you describe
came to m cabin, inquiring fora man whom
he called h Graham, who he had been
informed, liv in this part of K’ansas. I could

ive him no information and he rode away, and
hroni’ that hour to this I have not heard of
1m.

“ What road did he take?"

“ The one over which you passed to-day."

“ Then he came through the woods in which I
passed the ni ht?”

“ He must avo done so.”

“Let us be wary in this business, my friend.
The least note of danger may alarm the (810113

 

who have done this work, and they may cover
their traL-ks so that it would be impossible to
trail them. Do you give me your aid in bring-
ing the assassins to justice?"

“ Yes; I am with you heart and hand.”

While they were yet speaking the auctioneer,
who had disappeared for a moment, made his
appearance, looking for Harry.

“ I am sorry to say, sir, that the man from I
received the pin does not wish his name to be
known.”

“And you refuse to tell it?”

“ I would prefer not, as he insists upon it.”

“ You are willing to allow,” said Harry, look-
ing at the man in a strange way, “that the
original owner of this pin, if entitled to wear it,
ha a claim upon you stronger than any man to
whom that right did not belong?”

The man nodded, with alook of strange mean-
ing in his eyes.

‘And if 1 tell you that this man did really
have that right, that I believe some great wrong
has been done him, and that by means of this
pin I hope to unearth the villainy, what have
you to say i”

“ I must tell you, I suppose,” said the auction-
eer, slowly. “ If you give me your word that
what you say is true—not on the cross, mind—-
I will let you know who gave me the pin.”

“ I give you my word in the way you re
quire.”

“ Then watch me as i move about among the
crowd. I may speak to several ersons, but the
one whom I am speaking to w en I raise m
hat and run my fingers through my hair, in this
manner. is the one you want.‘

“ Thank you, brother! Now, let me ask you
to kee what we have said a secret. It is not to
be tal ed of anywhere, without my consent.”

Mr. Sedley had been looking on with a smiling
face while this conversation went on.

“ I am glad that the man happened to be a
Mason, Mr. Sanderson,” said he. “I may as
well let you know that I am one, also. In the
course of the day I will give ou the names of
all who are of the brotherho —and there are
more than you think—so that you may know
who to depend on."

“ Thanks, again; now let us watch our friend,
the auctioneer."

This man was moving slowly about among the,
crowd, now speaking to this man and. than to
that, until he stopped in front of a }group
composed of Conrad Thurston, Bill race,
and two others, rough—lookin fellows. He
spoke directly to Conrad, an , in doin so,
raised his hat and ran his fingers throng his
thick hair, and then passed on.

“ You see that, Mr. Sedley,” whispered the
young man. “ I have found the man who had
my father’s pin. We must watch him."

1 He is coming this way. Now, I think he
will ofl’er you a wager. and you must accept it
and name me as stakeholder. If I am not mis-
taken he sold that pin because he had lost all
his money to Joe, and isanxious to geteven.
When he puts up the money we can see it it is
the same you gave the auctioneer.”

“Five twenties on the Bank of Commerce,
New York City. Hush! here he is,” said Harry.

Conrad came up hastily, his face somewhat

 

    
  
    
    
  
   
  
 
  
 
   
  
 
    
   
  
  
 
 
  
   
   
 
 
 
 
    
  
   
  
  
   
  
   
 
   
   
  
   
   
    
   
  

Night-hawk Bill.

 

flushed by liquor, flourishing a handful of bank-
notes.

“ Look here,” he said, in a thick voice; " you
see this money, don’t you? I’m going to put it
up on my shootin . An even hundred I beat
you in a series of ve shots at any distance you
may name."

- “ I am not afraid to shoot with any one, my

Iyoun friend,” said Harry, coolly. "I don’t
1 wish bra. on my shooting, but you are not
the man to t me."

“ Put your money up), then. Brag won’t go
down with the Kansas oys, you know. Put up
or shut up—that’s my motto.

“Put your money in Mr. Sedley’s hands,”
said Harry, takin out his wallet and selecting
two fifty—dollar bil s. ,

The oung borderer at once complied with the
requ , and, as Mr. Sedley took the money,
Barr arrested his hand.

“ top," he said; “let me see it the money is
all right. You are at liberty to examine mine.”

He took the money and turned it over hastily.
Five twenties on the Bank of Commerce; the
same which he had put into the hands 01! the
auctioneer!

“ Now, allow me to ask you a question, Mr.
Thurston: Where did you get this money?”

“What is that to you?’ blustered Conrad.
“ It is good money, is it not?”

“Good enough, since it came from my own
pocket less than half an hour ago. You re-
ceived this money, sir, in payment for this pin,
which I bid in. And now, sir, where did you
get the pin? ”

Conrad turned gale, and thrust his hand into
the bosom of his untin -shirt as if searching
for a. weapon; but hal .—a-dozen men pinione
him instantly.

“ Hands 0 , you houndsl” he screamed. “ Do

011 think I will let any adventurer come into

nsas and insult me? Hands ofl’, I say, or it
will be the worse for some of you.”

“ Don’t Worry too much, Con," said Joe, who
was holding his right wrist. “ It only r’iles
your temper to no urpose, and we ain’t the
men to skeer easy. ow, then, tell him where
you got the pin.”

“ It is none of his business where I got it. I
won't have my actions misjud ed by any man
alive. as lally a stranger. ys, will you
hear me Will you let a stranger run on a
Kansas boy this w: , and not give him a show?
I out want a fair s ake.”

“ listen to me, man,” cried Harry. “This
pin is the property of my father, whom I am
sookin , and I want to know how this fellow got
_ on of it.”

“ Why don't ou speak, Con?” said Night-
hawk Bill. “Te 1 the gentleman where you got
the pin; it in no more than right to help him in
look! for his father.”

“ ound that pin. sir, at the root of a tree on
the west road, just as you pass through the
woods.”

" That’s so,” said Bill Brace; “I was with him
at the time. It looked to me as at some one had
camped down under the tree the night before,
for thar was hoof-marks all round there, and a
place where a picket-pin had been stuck into the
ground.”

 

“ How long ago was this?” demanded Harry.

“ I think it were about eighteen months ago.
Iknow it was in the month of April, and we
was going to Kansas Cit ——Con and I.”

“ I have no reason to oubt our word,” said
Harry, after a moment’s re action, “ and I
don’t know as I have anything else to ask you
at present.”

“ I won’t forget you, my fighting-chicken,”
said Conrad, as he took his money and turned
away. “ I never forget a man who has insulted
me

“ You know where I am to be found,” said
Barry. “ Now, Sedley, let us go down and see
the hall-play.”

The group was broken up and went down into
the meadow, were the field-sports were already
in progress. Conrad, however, had disap—

peared.

 

CHAPTER IV.
A STRANGE DISAPPEARANCE.

THE night was already coming on when
Harry, accompanied by Joe Bagley. Sedle and
his son James, got out their horses to ride ome.
Joe was in high spirits, for he had won a con-
siderable amount of money at the vendue be-
sides doing a ood trade in horse-flesh. They
rode at a bris pace, but, do all they could, it
was dark when they reached the woods, and
Sedl‘ey cautioned them to see to their weapons.

“ e have some hard seeds here, on the bor-
der," he said, “and I must say that you showed
your wallet too often at the vendue, Mr. San—
derson. Besides that, they know that Joe has
three or four hundred dollars, quite enough
temptation for some of the men I saw at the
gale. ,The Night-hawks are none too good to go

or it.

Just then there was a rustling in the bushes in
front and a. slight figure stole out into the road.
Even in the obscurity of the place, Harry, with
a thrill of delight, recognized Nettie, the girl he
had rotected the night before.

“ am glad that I came in time, gentlemen,”
she whispered, coming close to Sanderson.
“ You are in danger.”

“ In danger from whom?”

“ I cannot tell you that. There are a number
of armed men in ambush, and I heard them say
that they would waylay and perhaps murder
you, as you passed through the woods. Turn
back, then, for Heaven’s sake, or there will be
bloodshed.”

“ Who is it?’ said Sedley. bending forward in
the saddle. “ Nettie Forbes?”

“Yes, Mr. Sedley; you know that I would not
deceive you, and there are certainly too many
for you to fight. Nine or ten men at the lean ”

“'Could on see their faces,1 Nettie?”

“ They a i wore masks of b ack crepe,” she re-

lied in a low voice. “ I must not stay here or
may bein danger myself. I have given you
warning; take care of yoursolves.”

She was gone so quickly, that no one thought
of stopping her.

“I wish I could understand that all” said
Joe, “ or what there is about that blue scoun-
drel, Con Thurston, to make her like him; but
sich is life. Ain’t she a beauty, though? Pity
such a gal should lead the life she does. ’

Night-hawk Bill. 9

 

“ Who is she?" demanded Harry eagerly. “I
Ems: know, for I have a strange interest in

er.

“Umphl The less you have to say to her or
her friends, the better: but, we have no time to
talk about that now. What is to be done?”

“ I sa ride through the woodsfin spite of all
the mas ed assassins in Kansas,” cried Ha .

“Pluckyl my boy, but hardly wise,” said r.
Sedle . ‘ No; you have made yourselves
enem es already—crafty and bloody enemies,
who will stoop at nothing to compass your
death, and we must meet craft with craft.
What do you say, J 0e?”

“ I ain’t artial to gittin’ rubbed out by a
bullet from hind a tree,” said Joe. “Reckon
we’d better git round ’em, somehow."

“ Jump down there and take out a. one] in
the fence, J im,” said Mr. Sedley to is boy.
“1’11 hold your horse. Now, lead the way
through the cattle—path, and move as quietly as
you can.” _

The boy knew the country well and led them
by a path which the cattle had made through
the woods, cutting off a bend in the road, and
making the path home half a mile shorter. The
horses seemed to partake of their caution, and
not a stick snapped as they proceeded, andnnone
of the riders spoke. T ey were nearly half-
through, when a shrill whistle was heard, and
a bullet whizzed between Harry Sanderson and
Bagley.

“ Ride!” cried Sedley; “ ride for your lives.
We can do nothing in this Woods against hid-
den enemies. They are all around us.”

The darkness of the flplace was lighted up by
the constant flash of rearms, and through it
the party dashed with shouts of defiance,
em tying their revolvers into the bushesas they
r e. The trees flew b as if on wings, and the
party dashed out into t a main road and headed
toward Sedley’s at a furious ce. Then for the
first time Joe Bagley sawt at Harry’s horse
was following them riderlessl and a cry of
agony burst from the lips of the brave hunter.

“Rubbed out, by li htningl Look here, Sed-

ley; oh, look here! ’ hat brave young ’un has
gone-under.”
- They halted and looked in each other's faces,
in confusion and dismay, and began to realize
the full extent of the misfortune. How bad he
fallen without alarm of any kind?

“ Shot dead, I’ll bet money,” groaned Joe.
“ Look here, Sedley, I’m a rough kind of man, I
know—I’ve done some mean things in my time,
but this is the meanest of all. We three riding
away like devils and leaving that poor young
chap dead or wounded with them bloody
thieves. Let’s go back.”

“ Back it is!” said Mr. Bedlfy sternly.
“Jim, we don't want you in this. l 0 down
your mother will want your help, and s 9 can’t
spare both.” '

“ Oh, p, let me go. I’ll never learn any-
thing if lose such a chance as this—never in
this world i" whined Jim.

“ You can‘t go. I want you to take the
horses and ride up to Fralick’s and call out Pat
and Dan. Tell them what is up, and ask them
to bring their shooting~irons and come down.

 

We don’t want the horses, Joe; this has got to
beJa secret” r th dd] d th bo

oes run rom esa e,an e y,
ing a lag'iat gthrough the bit-rings of the m
horses, rode down the road at a hasty pace,
leaving his father and Joe Bagley standing up-
on the beaten athway. ‘

“ I’d rather ave lost anything I have in the
world, than to leave that young follow as we
did, Sedley,” said Joe. “Look to your pistols;
we’ll want ’em, sure.” _

They turned back‘ into the woods, taking an-
other path, which would bring them more
quickly to the scene of the late attack. The
forest was now silent as death, only the rush of
the night-bird’s wing and the dismal croakmg of
the frogs disturbing it. But these sounds seem
a part of solitude, and hardl seem to break the
silencgof the forest. Trea ing in each other’s
steps. advancing with a celerity and caution
which on] long habit could have imparted,
the nick yneared the spot where theflrstattack
hady%een made, when they heard the sound of
voices not far away.

“What devil ut it into their heads totake
this path, I sho d like to know?” said a hoarse
voice. “It would almost seem aslf they had
warmngof den er.” 3 '

“I don’t believe they did," replied another.
“That Sedley is a cunning old fox,aud like
enufl? he smelled revolvers. Joe Bugley is no
baby;7 either, and don’t like our boys anytoo
well.

“They have got away, an how, _and with
whole hides; but they are not one With us yet.
Sedley knows too much; it is time he went to
sleep. ’

“And Bagley, too.” _

“ Yes: Joe has run the length of his rope, but
he won’t die easy,” assented e other.

It was as much as Bagley could dotokeep
from chuckling aloud as this encomium was
pronounced. "

“ Let’s go over and see the others, boys," said
the first s aker. “ Maybe they had better luck
than we id. Any one it?”

“I’ve got it through the neck," replied one of
the men, faintly. ‘ 1 wish some one would tie
it u . -

“ ait till we geta light,” replied the other.
“ Come along; the commander will crazy
when he hears that th have got 01!." .

“ I thought for a minute he was going to kill
Con when we told him about the pin. It was
touch and go, I tell you. Sometimes the old man
shoots”before he thinks and bags pardon after-
ward. ‘

“Idon’t want him down on me. The only, , ‘
one who can do anything with him in his ragi "
moods is Nettie, and he don't dare to tough
her. Phewl Ain’t she a bu‘ster when she gets
real mad once? And you would not think it, to
look at her.”

“ Nettie is too high and mighty with the boys
to suit me,” repli the first voice, Igruffly' “ but.
that’s the commander’s lookout. the will have
her here it is nobod ’s fault except his own.”

“ Talk eno h, ys; come along or you’ll
get pepper. 6 dont want Sedley to raise a
gang annd come down on us before we can get to
cover,

 

Night-hawk Bill.

  

 

They moved away through the woods care-
lessly, and as soon as they were out sight Joe
arose with a puzzled face.

“ Where can Harry be, Sedley? They ain’t
got him yet, that's plain.”

“ The not fellow is dead, I am afraid. They
did not ollow us after we broke through, and
he kept the saddle then, for I saw him.
stooped down to clear a low branch, and as I
heard the horse following I thought of course it
was all right. Let’s follow the path back and
see what has become of him.”

They skirted the bushes a little way and came
out upon the path which they followed tothe
edge of the woods, but could see nothing of
Herr . If he had been killed or wounded, the
bed ad been carried away to hide the evidence
of t 9 crime.
~ “There’s another party out there, 39d lam
afraid that they have got him,“ sai Sedley
“ It seems to me that 1 hear horses.”

The sound of approaching hoofs grew louder,
and as the moon was now above the trees, Sed-
ley recognized the foremost as his son.

“There isJim back again,” he observed, “ and
’ he has some one with him. Hi, Jlml”

The boy rode up accompanied by two stal-
wart men of the border, perfect fac-similes in
face and form.

“How, thin, phat is the matther, b’yesl" said
the first, in a rich bro ue. “By the piper that
Elayed while the king anced, if there is going

be a foight we are the b’yes must have a
share in it, Dan and mesilf.”

They were Dan and Pat Fraiick, two of Sed-
ley’s friends.

“ And it’s roight ye are, honey." said the
other. “ I’ll b’ate the bed av ony spalpeen that
sex other ways.”

“ We can’t find our friend, Pat,” said Sedley.
” Joe and I have scouted back over the pat ,
and found a number of armed men in the woods,
but not a. Si 11 of Harry Sanderson and we
fiery} one 0 them say that they had not seen

m.

“ It’s a puzzle altpgither, thin,” said Pat
Fralick. “Phat will yees do now? Av ye 58.
the word, we‘ll go wid yees intil that bush an
cl’ane out the divils, body an’ bones. "

“ I am afraid they would be too many for us."

“ G’way wid yel An honest man can b’ate a
dozen bla ’ards ” said Dan.

“ I thin not, ban, Hows’ever, if you are for
a row, we will go into the woods again. Jim,
stay with the horses.”

The b0 shook his head and muttered to him-
self; he id not like the task imposed upon him.
He came of fighting blood and wanted a hand
in the business before him; but, bred to obe

"his‘father, he kept his place, grasping his em 1
rifle angrily.

“ They think I’m nothing but a boy.” he mut—
tered, as the four brave men plunged into the
forest. “ But, I’ll teach them one of these days
that I know how to do a man’s work. Who
goes there? Halt!”

He had seen something moving in the bushes
close at hand. ~Without a moment’s thought as

to the danger, he threw his bridieover a swing-
ing bough, grasped his rifle and leaped to the
earth, darting into the bushes with a quickness

 

 

which bade defiance to flight, and came upon
the girl called Nettie, who was standing in the
shadow of the bushes.

“ I’m not going to run,'Jim,” she said, quietly.
“ What do you want?”

“ Oh,” said Jim, confusedly, “ I didn’t think it
was you, Nettie. How did you get here without
being seen ?"

“ I know all the paths through the woods,"
she answered, calmly, “and as the night is dark,
I had no trouble in eluding them. What has
been done? Tell me, or I shall go mad."

“ We’ve lost that young stranger,” said Jim
slowly, “but they ain’t got hold of him yet as i
knows on. The old man, Joe Bagley and the
two Fralicks have gone after him." ,

“ They are brave men, but will only t them-
selves into trouble. Indeed, indeed. im, they
don’t know the danger. The men they will be
opposed to are des erate rufflans, who will stop
at no crime to shie d themselves.”

“They won’t put our boys down so easy,” said
Jim, with a scornful look. “ I guess you never
see the Fralicks in a fight. Lordyl It would
do your heart good to see them clean out a bar-
room with their shillalehs. ‘ Whoop? s 2 Pat;
‘ whoopl’ sez Dan; and then you oughter see the
fur fly! Joe Bagley is a whole team and a big
dog, and the old man can sort 0’ fight, too.”

“ I know that they are gallant men, but they
will be overmatched even if the mean villains
would fight fair. But, they are assassins at
heart, and will shoot their enemies down under
cover of the bushes.”

“ I’d like to know what you have got to do
with such a gang,” said im, in a wondering

tone. “ I can’t get it through my head.”
“Ask me no uestions, im,” she answered,
wildly. “ I am ound by an oath which I can-

not break, to reveal nothing, for the first word I
speak would be the doom of one whom I am
bound to by the most sacred ties. There: I
must go. If I am missed I don’t know what
would happen. Tell your father to be careful,
for he is bringing a terrible danger upon himself
by his course. ’

She darted awe into the woods, leaving Jim
lost in wonder. aking Paths known only to
herself, she pushed rapid ythrough the woods
for a mile, and came out breathless upon the
road near the spot where she had first met
Harry Sanderson. Hurrying down the road for
a little distance, she reached a bridleupath which
led to the east and pursued it for a quarter of a
mile, until she came to a log-houSe standing close
to the path. Pushing open the door she entered
a sort of harvroom, rudely fitted up. and breath-
ed more freely as she saw that the room was
em v.

‘ ow thankful I am that they have not re-
turned,” she muttered. " Oh, what shall I do if
they make that brave young man prisoner?”

She set about replenishing the fire, which had
burned low, and while thus engaged the door
was pushed o n without ceremony, and a tall
Indian, arm with a rifle, knife and a hatchet,
stood upon the threshold. He was a hardy-look-
ing save 0, with the thews and sinews which a
fearless ife had given him, yet had a kindly
look in his large black eyes. This was " Happy
Bill," a Sioux, who had made Kansas his home

  

  

  

1x-

 

Night-hawk Bill.

 
   

 

for years, having been banished from his tribe
for some great fault. Nettie knew him well and
had no fear of him, for he was welcomed in all
the cabins of that section, and was known to be
a man of strict honesty.

He subsisted by hunting and trapping, and, as
he entered the cabin, flung down a large string
of prairie—chickens which he carried upon his
shoulder.

“How do, white girl?” he said, with a beam-
ing smile. “ Happy Bill come.”

‘You are welcome, Happy,” she said; “sit
down; the men are all gone.”

Happy nodded gravely, and seating himself
beside the great fire-place, took out a pipe and
tobacco—pouch, loaded the pipe and lighted It
with a brand from the fire. The fragrance of
the Kilikinic filled the room, and, as the Indian
sat there, with his kindly face beaming upon
Nettie, she thought how-little he deserved the
name of savage as compared with some men
whom she knew.

“ Where fadder gone?” demanded Happy, after
a pause. I

“ I don‘t know, Happy,” she replied, with a
slight shudder. “ I hope he will return seen.”

“Hope so, too.” said Happy. “Want to sell
birds, if he buy.”

“ I think father will take them, as he has
guests to ate. with him tonight. 1 am getting
anxrous for is return.”

“ Me ankshous, too," said Happy, with a grin.
“ White girl good. Happy remember the bad
fever and how she take care of him and give him
good medicine. Ha py never for at dat.”

“It was nothing,’ she said. “ ou came to
us sick and I did as I ho I shall alv‘vays do
when a. man sick or in trou 10 comes to me for

hel ."

‘PHappy poor Injun,” he said, la ing his hand
upon his heart. “ but him all good ere when he
looks at white girl, Nettie.”

Happy had come to the cabin one dfiy ill With
a fever contracted in the swamps. ettie had

iveu him medicine and watched him with sister-
y care until he was quite recovered.

" I hear footsteps,” she said, suddenly, lifting
her hand for silence. Happy nodded and wink-
ed knowingly as an uncertain, wavering step
approached the door.

“Man drunk!” he said, briefly.
fire—water.”

As he spoke the body of a man fell against the
door. It opened inward and the person fell
headlong into the room. Nettie uttered a low
cry of horror, for it was Harry Sanderson who
lay still and pale at her feet.

CHAPTER V.
IN THE CELLAR.

“MAN drunk?” said Hap y. in a questioning
tone, rising quickly and loo mg into the face of
the senseless man. “No; man hurt! white girl
bring water, quick l"

Nettie darted to the water-pail, but it was
empty; catching it u she ran to the little spring
just in the rear of t 9 building, and filling it

uickly, ran back to the house. Happy dipped
t e gourd into the pail and began to lave the
face of the young stranger .
“ Man hurt here,” said the Indian, as he pass—

“ Too much

 

 

ed his hand over a bruised place upon the young
man’s forehead. “ Some man hit him wid
lightwood knob.”

It must have been a terrible blow which
could so completely rob those strong-knit sinews
of their strength. But the cool water had its
effect, and Harry began to show signs of return-
ing consciousness.

“ He should not have come here,” whispered
Nettie, “ but oh, how can I send him away when
he is so badly hurt?”

 He stay here: {adder cure him,” said Happy

1 .

“No, no; Conrad Thurston is with him, and
he hates this young man. He mustbe moved,
but where can he be taken?”

“ Ugh 1" said Happy. “ Me take care of him
same as white girl take care of Happy. Open
door: me carry him to wood-hut!”

“ it looks wicked to send him away,” she

murmured. “I could watch him so much bet-
ier than Happy. Yet he must go. Wait until
I give him some liquor.”

They were interrupted by Har Sanderson,

who sat up, with a struggle, and naked wildly
about him.

“ Where am I?” he gasped.

“ You are safe for the present," said Annette;
“ but you must not stay here or I will not an-
swer for your life." -

“ My life! Ah, I remember, now. We were
attacked in the woods, and [was struck h a
low branch and knocked out of the sad 8.
After that I remember little.”

“ You must go awav at once," cried Annette.
“ Hasten, or you may he too late; for, if the
men come back, I should have no power over
them. Go With the lndian—a man whom you
can trust with your life.”

Happy Bill assed his strong arm under the
shoulders of anderson and raised him to his
feet.’ As he did so, they heard the confused ,
sound of voices close at hand, and the tramp of
feet. Quick as thought, Nettie sprung to the
door and dropped the barin its plam, for she
knew that Harry could not now escape without
being seen. For a moment she stood in doubt
and then raising a ma door, she pointed down-
ward into a small, dar cellar.

‘ “In here, for your life!" she gasped. “ It is
your only hope.” '

Harry did not hesitate, for something in her
manner impressed him with the extremity of
his dan er, and he planned into the dark open—
ing wit out a word. Once in the cellar, he
crouched in a corner behind some barrels, and
calmly awaited the result. Happy closed the
trap and sat down on it cross-legged, while
Nettie lifted the bar which closed t e door just
as a hand was laid upon it, and four men came
in with the manner of persons who felt quite at
home. The first was Conrad Thurston, wiih .
Bill Brace and Jake Kilts-the two who had
stop Harry upon the road—and a ,middle‘
as; man, with a culiar, yet handsome face.
He wore a heavy w isker reaching to his breast,
and his hair was of a dark iron~gray. The eyes
were black, with a devilish expression in them,
and there was a cold, cruel look about the
mouth which would have impressed, a stranger
painfully. Anger was now sternped upon is

   

 

 

12

face, but it passed away as he met the anxious
glance of Annette.

“ Ah, you are here, then, Annette?” he said,
as be deposited his rifle and ammunition in a
rack, and hung up his belt. “Confounded night
to be trampinf through the woods, How are
you, Happy? hope you have brought some
game.

“ Got plenty chicken,” said Happy, ointing
to the pile of birds in the corner. “ on buy
'em, s’pose?”

“ Yes, I’ll take them all," replied the man,
quietly. “ Put up your Weapons, boys. We
have wasted our time to—night to no purpose—
curse the luck!”

“ I Wanted to meet that Sanderson,” said
Thurston, “ but the devil was on his side, and he
got ofl? clear.”

“ It is your fault that we have any thing to
fear from him,” said the older man, sharply.
“ How could you be such a fool as to oil’or that
pin for sale?”

“I think you have said enough about that,"
replied Thurston, sulleuly. “Who would have
suspected that this young fellow could know
anything about it? But Bill Brace threw him
of! the scent nicely—I will say that. "

“Perhaps he was not so much cheated as you
imagine,” said the elder man, Richard Forbes,
as he drew a stool up to the fire. “ One of those
cursed bullets grazed my leg. Where’s the
amnion-bottle, Nettie?" ,

The girl brought the required article, and he
sat by the fire rubbing the part where the bullet
had left a blue mark upon the cuticle, muttering
to himself in an angry way.

“Wears about played out here, boys,” he
broke out, at last; “and it is nearly time we
made a move." _

“ I’m going to get even with old Sedley and
his friend Joe, first,” protested Conrad, angrily.
“ That infernal trapper cleaned me out nrday,
and I don’t allow any one to walk off with my
money in that way.”

“Then d-in’t bra on your shooting again,”
said Bill Brace. “ lost a cool fifty on you,
this blessed day.” i

“I didn’t think that Sanderson knew how to
shoot,” rowled Conrad.

“Dont think there are no marksman com-
ing out of York State,” said Bill. “There’s
a iigtract of timber and lake country they call
the huddagee region, whar the have pesky
good shootiu’. It served you right for bein‘
such a fool.”

" There, there,” said Forbes, interposing, as
Conrad was about to make an angry reply.
“Let us have no quarreling. but tike a drink
and let us talk business. Happy, I'm sorry to
drive you out, but we’ve got so nothing to talk
about that we don’t want you to hear. You
won’t mind sleeping in the shed this warm
weather?”

Happy arose. Forbes put into his hand the
price of the chickens, and he started out, ex-
changing a meaning look with Nettie.

“ Go to your own room now, Annette,” said
Forbes. ‘ We have something to talk of which
we wish to keep to ourselves. No listening,

1
“Aslf I wished to know anything of your

 

Night-hawk Bill.

 

 

  

wicked plans,” she said, in an almost savage
tone. “ I am willing to go.”

But she was not. She thought of He.
Sanderson in the cellar, and what would be h a
fate if he were detected. Already he had heard
enough to doom him to death, if the vile partv
once suspected his presence.

“ Have you everything that you want here?”
she said, striving to gain time.

" Yes, yes,” replied Forbes, in a hurried tone.
“ Go out and leave us alone."

She went out slowly into her room, which was
partitioned off from the one in which they sat.

he men drew a table to the other side of the
room, placed bottles and glasses upon it, and
began to talk in subdued tones which did not
reach Annette’s ears. Forbes appeared to he
the leading spirit. When he spoke the rest gave
strict attention, and no one presumed to con-
tradict him, with the exception of Conrad, who
did so at times. but was rewarded by a look of
cold surprise, for Forbes brooked no opposition
to his will.

Annette was in agony. She could think of
nothing which could possibly take an of them
into the cellar that night, yet someth ng might
happen. She watched the faces of. the arty
through the chinks in the boards, and new
that they were plotting some great wickedness.
All at once her father arose and spoke so that
she could hear him.

“ To do this, Conrad, you will want more
money, and that I will give you, to account for
to the Nighthawks. Annette, where is the
lantern?”

“ Why do want it?”

“ I must go into the cellar," he said. “ I keep
alittle money always on hand, as you know,
boys. Bring the lantern, Nettie.”

To go to the cellar! Her knees trembled
beneath her, and when she came out into the
room the men were startled by the frightful
pallor of her face.

“ Wliy, Nettie!” said Conrad. “ What is the
matter, my dear? You are as pale as a ghost.”

“ She has not got over the shock the other
night, when the great pine was struck by H ht-
ning, and Bill Brace has handled her roughly,
too. I’ve a good mind—"

“Don’t say any more about it, father.” said
Annette, as she prepared the lantern. “ Let me
get the box for on."

“ N 0,” he sai ; “I will not allow you‘to exert
yourself.”

“ But I am not sick, father,” she said, eer-
nestly. “ Pray let me get it for you.”

“ Nonsense; give me the lantern.”

He stepped to the trap—door, and Annette
held her breath as she saw him grasp the ring
and raise the wooden door. Some horrible at-
traction led her to follow her father and to cast
a. wild look after him as he went down, step by

0.
He advanced slowly, for the place was very
dark, but as yet she had seen not ing of Harry,
and she was about to stumble against her father
and extinguish the light in his hands, when he
took a few quick steps across the cellar, and put
his hand upon a stone in the wall.
“ Come and hold the light," he said, sharply,
turning to her,

  

rs

  

Night-hawk Bill. 13

 

She advanced, and held the light in such a
Way that, while it shone upon the stone upon
Which he was working, it did not throw any
light behind her.

He worked for a moment at the loose stone,
when it came out suddenly, and revealed a
small cavity in the wall, into which he thrust
his hand and brought out a small tin-box, which
he opened, took out a roll of bills, and closed it
avnin. At this moment, Nettie managed to ex-
tinguish the light.

“ There, you have done. it now,” he said, in a
petulant tone. “However, there is light enough
for what I have to do.”

He put back the box, replaced the stone, and
led the way to the cellar stairs. .,

While there, Annette had been in an agony,
for she had expected nothing less than a deadly
combat between her father and the hidden man,
and she could not doubt who would be the vic—
tor in such a contest. Added to this, she
loved her father, had and cruel as he was,
and would not willingly see him injured. She
breathed more freely then, when he turned to-
ward the stairs.

She was surprised that the young man had
been able to keep out of sight in the small
cellar. Even she, who knew of his presence,
had not been able to catch aglimgse of him
and as the trapidoor was closed, s e puzzled
herself in endeavoring to study out the place
where he lay concealed.

CHAPTER VI.
'r a n M A 1) M a N .

As Forbes closed the trap, Annette looked up
and caught the eyes of Conrad Thurston fixed
upon her in a strange, questioning way, with
sometbin of malice in it. e had been asking
himself t e uestion, whether or not there was
any reason or her excessive pallor beyond the
fright of the night before, and his suspicions
became aroused. She averted her face quickly,
but not before he caught the troubled expres-
sion on it.

“J want to speak to you, Annette,” he said,
rising from the table. “ Come out here a mo~
ment.”

He threw open the door of the house, and
made a signal to her to pass out, which she did
gt once, but the look of anxiety deepened on her
ace.

“Now, my dear girl,” he said, when they
moved some paces from the door, “I want
to ask fyou a question. Who is concealed in the
cellar ’ ‘ 

It was a random shot, but it told. The girl
started and uttered a low cry.

“ Hal Then there is some one there?” he
cried, fierce] , gras ing her arm. “Who is it?
Speak nick y, for y all the devils out of the
pit I M l knowl”

“Let go my arm,” she replied, swinging her-
self clear of him by a sudden movement. “ You
had better be careful how you put your hands
on me, Mr. Conrad Thurston.”

" You little spit-fire l” hissed Thurston, with
a bitter laugh. “Come, this will not do; tell
me who is in the cellar, or it will be the worse
for him.”

“ I don’t know what you have conjured up in

 

 

your crazy brain,” she replied, indignantly.
“ What do you mean?"

“Do you deny that some one is there?” he
asked.

“ Why should I deny it?” she answered.
“You stand ready to give me the lie and so I
$1311” neither deny nor afiirm it. b0 as you
I 9.

“You are hard on a r fellow,” he said, in
a mournful tone. “ on know that I love you
and I am jealous of all other men on earth, and
yet you delight in giving me ain. Say that
the cellar is empty, and I will be ieve you.”

“ Why do you talk?” she replied, impatiently.
“ Was not father in the cellar within five min-
utes?”

“True, but the light went out, and I suppose
that you held it; a rather suspicious circum-
stance, it seemsto me.”

“ I told you that you would contradict me,"
she said, angrily. “ There, {go about your busi-
ness, but don’t take the tron 16 to talk to me,
for I shall not answer.” -

“ That is a pretty way to speak to a man who
is to be your husband,” he said, sullenly.

“I don’t know that,” was the reply. “If I
am to be crossed in everything I say, I would
sooner die than be your wife, and I do not think
my father Would force me to marry you.”

“ You had better tell me what I ask " he said.
“ Is it Sedley—Joe Bagley—Jim? You will
not speak. Is it Sanderson? By all the devils
it is f ’

He suddenly flung open the door of the house,
and shouted to those within:

“ We are betrayed! and by this road girl.
There isaman in the cellar, and I think it is
Sanderson.”

All the rest started up and grasped their wea~
pens. Annette’s first impulse was to seize a
weapon and defend the entrance to the cellar,
but she had great discretion and force of will,
and burst into a fit of laughter.

“Conrad has found out a. wonderful thin , ’
father,” she said. “ If there is a man in the ce -
lar, as I do not believe, it was very ossible for
him to conceal himself there while was in the
woods. There, go and search, and if you find
anything, come and tell me.”

“She so kept u the appearance of delight in
the foolishness 0 Thurston that even he began
to doubt, and she hoped that no search would
be made, but Forbes caught up the lantern
which had been relighted and went into the cel-
lar, followed by the rest, each with a cocked
pistol in his hand.

“ Knivos will do,” said Forbes, in a. blood—
chilling tone, looking over his shoulder. “Put
up your pistols, bo s.”

The obeyed wit out a- word of comment, and
he held up the light, which shone into every
corner of the little cellar. Two or three casks. a

ile of vegetables, and a heap of straw, was all
t contained.

“ I think you have found a mare’s nest, Con,”
said Forbes, looking back at the young man.
“Kick over that straw, Bill; perhaps he is unm
der that." ,

Bill Brace umped on the straw and scattered
it in every rection. But the effort was use-
less; there was nothing underneath. Annette,

 

 

 

ll Night-hawk Bill.

who was looking down through the trap, laughed
aloud at their discomfiture.

“ It is comical, my poor Con," she said, “ but
you brought it on yourself by your absurd sus-
picions. Are you going to stay there all night?”

Her laughter had its eifect, and perhaps they
did not search as carefully as they might have
done if she had kept quiet. But, the place did
not seem to contain anything large enough to
shelter a .rat, and with an angry exclamation
Forbes ordered the men out of the place.

“ We have had enough of this foolishness," he
said, as the trap was again closed. “There is
the money, Con; take it and go about the work
I have given you to do. Take Bill ‘Brace with
you, and see if you can control your tongues.”

The two men went out, and shortly after
were heard to take their horses and ride away.
Then Jake Kilts departed upon a missron of his
own, and no one remained in the house except
Richard Forbes and his daughter.

“ There is a strange look in your face, child.”
he said. “ Have you been quarrelmg with Con-

“ Yes; be accused me of hiding some one in
the cellar.”

“He is very foolish; but then you must bear
in mind that he loves you dearly, and that you
are to be his wife.”

“ Father. I cannot bear the thought. I do
not love Conrad Thurston, and I fear that I
never can. Tnere is something in his dark face
which repels me, and when I think of him as my
husband, I shudder—why, I cannot tell."

“ You must not think of him in that way, my
dear girl. There are worse men in the world
than Thurston, and he loves you truly. But
come; have you prepared the basket of pro-
visions, as I told you?”

“ Yes, father.”

“ Then get it out while I bring up my horse.
You will be quite alone for the greater part of
the night. but bar the door and windows, and
keep a rifle handy. You know how to use it, if
there is any danger, as well as the best.”

, While he went out to the shed to bring up his
horse, she opened her bedroom door and dragged
out a large wicker basket, with a cloth care~
fully covering the top. In a moment her father
was at the door, mounted.

“ Bring me the basket, my dear,” he said.

She raised it with both hands. and found it
quite as much as she could do to lift it to him as
he sat in the saddle. He laced the basket on
the pommel in front of im, and kept it there
with one hand. =

“ Good-night, my dear,” hesaid; “be careful
and lock up the house before you retire."

She kissad her hand to him and he rode away
at a brisk trot, taking a. course which led him
deeper and deeper into the ranges. He was
soon in a section which was broken into gullies
and ravines, a desolate, barren tract which no
man choosing land would care to look at lo" a
second time.

After riding about three miles through 1
broken and dangerous ath, he turned sharply
tothe left and entered a ittle valley containing,
at the most, five or six acres of land. Upon the
western side was a small cabin, built up against
the‘rocks in such a way as to shelter it from the

 

wind. He looked cautiously about him to see
that he was not observed, and seeing no one,
rode up to the door and rapped upon it sharply
with the hilt of his knife. There was a stir
within, and a gi'uflf voice cried:

“ Who is there? Ride on your way if a
stranger. No one comes in here."

“ It is I, Karl,” replied Forbes. “ Open the
door."

The rough door swung back, and a dark figure
appeared at the entrance, shading his eyes with
his hands.

“ Ah, commander; glad to see you, I am.
It’s mighty lonesome even for me back here in
the ranges. If it wasn’t good pay, you’d never
keep me here."

“Take the basket,” replied Forbes. “Care-
ful; there’s crockery in it.”

The man took the basket and went into the
but, and Forbes, with a lariat from his saddle,
picketed the horse a short distance from the
door. This done, he entered the cabin and ad-
vanced to the fire.

The man he called Karl was leaning over the
basket, removing the contents. He was a rough,
hard-featured man, with a month’s growth of
stubble on his chin, and small, twinkling, fero-
cious eyes. In stature he was rather below the
middle hight, but he made up for it by a tre-
mendous breadth of shoulder and girth of loins.
A terrible man to meet in a deadly grapple for
life or death, if outward appearance were any-
thing. Forbes drew a chair to the fire, and
spread out his hands over the blaze, for the
night air at that hour was quite chilly.

“ How do we get on here, Karl?” he asked.

“ Howl If you only knew how much he tries
my patience. Sometimes I gits so cussid mad I
want to split him, but what‘s the use? the crit-
ter don‘t know how mean and ornery he is.”

“ It’s a hard life for him, Karl,” said Forbes,
reflectively. “ He ought to give up, and then it
would be all right. never saw so obstinate a
brute in my life.”

“ Ubstinatel It ain’t no name for it, com-
mander. He’s p’izen, he is! If it wasn’t such a
big stake, I‘d say split him, and plant dim
some’rs or other. He ain’t no right to wear the
life out of honest men.”

Karl had pursued a life of crime so long
that he actually regarded himself as honest; but
Forbes smiled in spite of himself. A moment
after his face became stern a sin.

“ Is be any calmer than e was, Karl?” lie
asked. ,r’

“Sometimes; an" then ag’in he’ll take a streak
of mean actin’, an’ you orter hear him rave and
tear. It ain't jest safe 'to go in what: he is,
them times. Say, did you bring me my
whisky!”

“ There is a bottle in the basket.”

“ Yes, I see‘d it, but I thort it was for him.
’Tain’t rlght to waste good licker on his sort,
nohow you can fix it.”

He draw out the bottle and held it up between
him and the light of the fire, laughing as it
flashed in the light. V
W‘I‘JA’E, tgatfiritteri” he said. “ How I love it!

is y, e r man. s asgoodasmone
for it makes hirgoigcher than the richest. W113i;
I’m drunk, I’m a king; when I’m sober, I’m

    

  

 

 
 

Night -hawk Bill. 15

 

nobody but old Karl Peugh, a miserable critter,
tryin' to git an honest living."

“ Where is the key?” said Forbes. “ While
you enjoy your liquor, I’ll go in and see him.
Perhaps he may change his mind when he sees
me.”

“ Ain’t got much mind left ” rejoined Karl,
lowering the bottle as he spo e. “ It looks a
little hard sometimes, but men must live. The
ke hangs by the door.”

orbes went to the place indicated, and took
down a. large iron key which hung there.
Selecting a pitch-pine knot from a heap in the
corner, he lighted it at the fire and went out ata
door at the back of the cabin which 0 nod in-
ward, showing a rocky wall behind. here was
a small hole in the rock in which be inserted the
iron key and a sharp click was heard, followed
b the swingiu back of a portion of the rock.
Hye entered, an the door closed behind him.

“ That door was well—planned,” he said; “no
one would for a moment suspect its presence.
New for my ancient prisoner.”

His course led through a narrow excavation,
just wide enough to admit the passage of a
man’s body, ending at another door which he
opened by touching a spring. As the door
swung back his ears were assailed by the rat-
tling of chains and a ferocious, scarcely human,
jyéell, at which even he started back in affright.

ut he recovered himself and entered the room,
which wasa small one, hewn out of the solid
rock,

Its only occupant was a strange, half- human
creature, heavily chained to the wall, the last
link bein welded into an iron belt about the
body. is being, whoever or whatever it was,
had something of the impress of humanity. Its
clothing was irty and soiled, as if from contact
with the dirty straw which formed his bed. The
beard, which was white as snow, hun nearly to
his waist, and his hair, of the same co or, flowed
about his shoulders in silvery masses. The
creature was gumboling like a beast upon the
straw which formed his bed, and, as if appalled
by the lighted torch, he sunk down in a corner,
gibbering like a maniac, as indeed he was.

“ Now, keefa quiet,” said Forbes, sternly. “ No
tricks, sir. have come to talk to you, and if
you do not answer me when I speak, beware of
the fire.”

The maniac uttered a shriek of terror, and
shrunk closer to the wall, while Forbes waved
the light up and down before his eyes.

“ Take it away 1” screamed, the poor wretch.
“ It burns my eyes, and I hate it as I hate you.
Take it away.”

Forbes smiled grimly and placed the burning
knot in a small shelf in the rocky wall of the
room, evidently cut for the purpose. The eyes
of the maniac ollowed him all the time wit a
strange glare, in which the desire for revenge
seemed to struggle with his fear for his jailer.

“ Take care," said Forbes. noting the look.
“ The fire, my lad—the fire. You ought to know
how it feels by this time.”

“ Don’t touch me with it,” screamed the
maniac. “ I don‘t like it, though I hate you all
the same, you dog. Why do you kee me here?
Outside the leaves are green and the irds smg.
I used to hear them, long ago, before I came

here to live. Wh don’t they sing now? Curse
you, have you kil ed them all and chained their
odies down as you have mine?”

“ It was a bad day for you, my ood friend,
when you tracked me down,” said orbes, grim- _
1y. “ I told you so at the time. but you would
ngt believe me. Better far for you to endure the
li tie wrong I did you than to come to this."

“ I am not right in my head, I think,” mut-
tered the madman, with a dim perception of his
state. “ I wish you would let me go out where
the sun can shine upon me.”

“ Stop,” said Forbes, taking a piece of paper
and a pencil from his pocket and rapidly scrawl-
ing some words. What am I doing now?” ,

‘ Ha! I know—~I know,” cried the madman.
“ You are writing; I could write once.”

“ See if you can write,” said Forbes, throw-
ing the pencil and paper to him. He crouched
in the straw and wrote, in a free bold hand, a
name, at the gm of which Forbes uttered a
cry of Joy. “ 6 has not forgotten.” he mutr
tered. ‘ Now, if I can make him sign the deed,
all will be well.”

CHAPTER VII.

SANDERSON AND NETTIE.

TEN minutes had scarcely passed after the
departure of Richard Forbes, when the trap-
door was lifted and Harry Sanderson, looking
rather the worse for mud and water, came
quickly out of the cellar. He had now quite re-
covered from the eflect of the blow he had re-
ceived, and moved with the agilit and grace of
a muscular man. He met the de ighted gaze of
Annette by one of rapture.

“ You noble girl l’ he said, quickly. “ You
have saved my life.”

“ Then we are quits,” she said, extending her
hand. “ A life for a life; that is equal.”

“Are they gone, sure?" he said, lookin anx-
iously about him. “ I thought I was oomed
when the trap was opened the first time.”

“ Where were you then?" ‘

“ I was under the straw,” he replied.

“ Ah! But you Were not under the straw the
second time, for Bill Brace searched there.” _

“ No, indeed; but they leaned against my
place of refuge several times. You remember
the large cask in the corner. The head was out,
so, on the spur of the moment, I turned it over
and went under it. What chance had I if they
had thought of lookin there?"

“ Father did not be ieve that you were in the
cellar at all, and that accounts in part for the
casual search which was made. But come; you
must ’not stay here, for some of the men might
come. ‘ '
“Who are these men?” said Harry. “ Their
furpose is not good—that I know—but what are

he doin here? Are they the Night-hawks?”

‘ You orget that my father is one of them,”
said Annette, sadly.

“ I beg your pardon, Miss Forbes,” he Said.
“ I did not thin that I was askin‘ a child to
betray her father. beg your
pardon.” _ . _

“ There is no need,” she answered, taking up,
her hat. “ Comelwith me, and I will set you on
the road to Sedley’s. Once there, I‘ beg you to

I repeat that

 

 

 

‘ I ha py woman.

 

 

16

» take our horse and ride away, never to return
to th 5 part of Kansas.”

“ I cannot do that,” he replied, half fiercely.
“ I, too, have a mission, and will carry it
through to the end.”

She said no more, and he followed her out of
the house and down the bridle-path to the main
road, where she halted. It was near the spot
where the blasted pine yet stood as a monument
of their former meeting. The tears came into
her beautiful eyes, and he saw them glisten in
the moonlight.

" We part here,” she said in a mournful tone,
“ never more to see each other’s faces upon this
side of the grave. But I ask your good opinion:
I want you to believe that, in spite of the asso-
ciations with which I am connected, I am not
wicked. , If my father would quit this life and
go away to a new country to repent the evils

e has done in this, I should be very happy.”

“ You have no right to say that we shall

never more meet,” he protested; “ we shall meet

in. 7

“ No, no; it is better that we part here—bet-
ter for you—better for me. I have lived so long
among lawless men that it is a breath from
Heaven to hear the voice of an honest man, and
to know that he is my friend. There, your
course is lain before you. Sedley’s house is the
first on he right—hand side, about smile dis-
taut.”

“I cannot part from you like this,” he said,
taking her hand. “ Do you think, for a mo-
ment, I can believe, after I have proved the
goodness of your heart, that you haVe any sym-

athy with he cruel men with whom your lot

cast? Not I, b Heaven! And then I Wish to
speak to you of hurston. Beware of him, for
he has a wicked heart."

“ Do I not know it?” she cried, wildly. “But
'I am in the toils and cannot escape. Go your
way and think of me sometimes as one who, in
another sphere, might have been a good and
Good-by—fore ver l”

he darted away before he could stretch out a
hand to detain her as he would have done, and
. he pursued his way along the lonely road under
the light of the moon, now riding hi h and clear
in the sk . His thoughts were all 0 Annette—
of her ut -of her many graces and the
nobleness of eart she had shown. Buried in
these reflections, he was startled suddenly by
the sound of horses‘ feet, and before he could
bury himself in the woods, two horsemen were
close to him, whom he recognized as Thurston
. and Brace. .
' “ Hal” elled Thurston, “ ’tis Sanderson!
After him, Bill Brace; a hundred dollars if we
run him down 1"

Harry was unarmed, and his only safety was
’ in flight. Darting aside from the road, he

‘ plunged into the woods threading his way with

neonceivable rapidity throu h the intricacies of

the forest. I Brace and Thurs u did not attempt
' to follow on horseback, but, flinging themselves
from the saddle, and leaving the horses to find
their way home, as the well-trained steeds would
surely do, they darted into the woods in close

 

pursuit with their pistols ready. But they
ound that the followed a man who was no
child in the trio of the woods, and was a noble

Nighthawk 3m.

runner as well, for, strain as they would, it was
impossible to gain upon him. Brace would have
fired but he had discovered that Sedley and his
party were in the woods, and he had no wish
for u ersonal encounter with’ the giant brcth-
are. t was a fair race, and it was impossible
to say who would win, when Harry, who knew
nothing of the locality, came suddenly into an
opening where a boy stood beside some horses.
At a lance Harr recognized Jim Sedley.

“ urrahl” yel ed Jim. “ Here you ar’, Mr.
Sanderson!”

Harry darted behind the horses and took
breath, while Jim thrust into his hand a heavy .
knife. Thurston and Brace broke out of the
bushes a hundred yards distant, but Jim drew a
bead upon the latter.

H  l”

It was all he said, but it was enough. The
villains did not fear to cope with a tired man
and a boy, but they feared that Sedley and his
friends were not far off. and did not dare to
wait. Turnin swiftly, they darted into the
bushes, follow by the derisxve shouts of Jim

is .

“ Sgah-hipl Cowards—nhoss-thievesl Why
don’t you run, you thieves of the world? Git up
and dust I"

“ It was a lucky thing for me that I came
upon you, Jim,” said Barry, drawing a long
breath. “ I was very tired and had no weapons.”
lad I staid. We went back and got ,
the two ralicks. and father and Joe are With
’em in the woods, tr ing to find you. I’ll bet
they‘ve bin gone four ours. Let’s see if I can
bring them In.” '

He had a tin horn hanging at his saddle which
he took down and sounded with all the power of
his lungs. The sonorous blast went rolling away
across the forest, and was echoed and re-echoed
among the mossy trunks. Jim waited a mo-
ment and then a reply came back from the
woods at least a mile away. He now blew three
times in (111;le succession and was answered by
a sin 19 b st.

“ hat’s all right," said Jim. “ He under-
stands me and will come in. Lordy, the times
I've sounded that call for him in the woods.”

They sat down to wait for the coming of their
friends, who had a mile to walk through the
dark forest to reach them. But these men of
the border are swift of foot and it was not long
before the form of Joe Bagley appeared, closely
followed b Sedley and the two giant brothers.
Joe utter a about of joy and executed a fan-
tastic hornpipe as he saw Harry sitting upon a
mossg knoll. .

“ yar he is, by the livin’ hokiesl 0h, ain’t
it ay'l I never was so glad. sence 1 Was born.
Ho d me somebody or I‘ll bu’st up, sure."

Mr. Sedley advanced and shook the young
man warmly by the hand and introduced the
two brothers. Dan and Pat Fralick.

“ The bist av good luck till ye, mistheri” said
Pat. “ It’s the opinion av mesilf as well as me
britltne’r Dan that ye’ve had a moighty hard time
EV l .

“ I have been in some danger,” was the reply,
“ but I welcome it if it brings me such warm-
hearted friends. Have you been looking for me
ever since I was lost, J eel”

r*‘ 

Night-hawk Bill.

1'?

 

" Yes, and what’s more, we’d ’a’ kept it u all
night; and what’s more’n that, we’d ’a’ looke till
mornin’——and arter that till sundown; and of
we didn’t find ye then Pd '8) had the scalp of
any mushrat-eating, hoss-stealin , carroty-head-
ed son of a gun like Bill Brace, i we chainced to
meet.”

“ If you had been here, half an hour ago, you
would have had the pleasure of meetin the
worthy, as he with his friend Thurston c ased
me through the woods until I stumbled on Jim
here, when they beat a somewhat hasty retreat,”
said Harry.

“ Bad luck til them,” roared Pat. “ Av I had
them here now 1”

Harry now recounted the manner of his down-
fall, and said nothing of the place in which he
had been concealed, as he felt that he was not
doing rightin betrayin the father of Annette.
But he said that she h put him upon the right

road.

“She’s a good gel, is Nettie,” said Joe.
“And purt 1 She ain’t got her ekal in all
Kansas of do say it! But, why in thunder
she sticks to that old rip, Dick Forbes, I don’t
know."

“ Who is Dick Forbes?”

“ The devil onl knows, fur I don’t. He's the

ace and
ihrot'hers,

father of the a who helped you, and a cold-
hlooded cruel old rip he is too. We suspect him
of a good many things, but what’s the use of
suspecting when you can’t prove anything. I’ll
ketch him asleep one of these days, and when I
do, Wed-b to him—that’s all.”

“ hat 5 his business?”

“ Purtends to keep a tavern, but, what’s the
use of a tavern, half a mile away from the main
track? No one goes thar ’cept a. lot of gallows—
birds that ain’t got no great while to stay in
Kansas. But, let’s git home; it’s jest foolin’
away time staying here.”

Thefset oil? at a swingingl qfiickly
reached the home of the ris w o in-
vited them in warmly.

“ Come in, the heft av yeI” said 'Pat. “ We’ve
got blankets in plenty, an’ 'a small sup av the
crayther for our fri’nds."

“ I’d like to stop, Pat," said Mr. Sedley, “ but
yomsee my wife will be anxious, and 1 must go

I].

“ I’ll stay with you, be ,” said Joe Bagley,
“ and Mr. Sanderson body better stop too, be-
cause your wife won’t be ready for him, Sam.”

Harry insisted upon staying, and after some
persuasion the father and son departed, and the

rishmen led their ests into the cabin.

" Dhraw up stoo 3, boys, and make ersilves
at home,” said Dan, hospitably. “ t’s little
we can ofi’er yees, but either the run we‘ve had,
a small taste av the crayther an’ a bit to ate
won't come so had. Rake up the fire, Pat."

While Pat was raking out the coals, his
brother cut some steaks mm a venison ham
which hung suspended from the ceiling and pre-
pared them for broiling. Joe, who always
made himself at home, prepared the cofiee, and
while Pat broiled the venison Dan drew out a
rough pine table, and placed 11 n it such rude
dishes as they . A arge black bottle
gamed the center of the board, but this was to

the crowning of the repeat. The struggles of

the night had given Harry a tremendous ap-
petite, and when the meal was ready, although
it was after twelve o’clock, he did ample exeuu’
tion upon the steaks and Johnnycake, washed
down with two or three cups of strong coffee.
Dan then cleared the table, and placed in the
center a steaming bowl of punch, a pack of
cards, tobacco pipes and glasses.

“ It’s the first toime we iver had a .jintleman
from the Statesto ate wid us, an’ be the powers
we’ll make a noight av it. Let me fill the glass
for ye, Misther Sanderson. Sure it’s mild as
milk—an’ moighty pleasant.”

Harry laughed at the Irishman’s idea of mild-
ness as he tested the punch and gave himself up
to the rollicking good nature of his hosts. They
played game after game until nearly three
o’clock, when the punch waxing low, and Joe
Bagley manifesting a disposition to dance upon
the table, the party rose. At this moment the
crack of firearms was heard in the direction of
Sedley’s cabin. ‘

All started and looked at each other in dis-
may, when the rush of light feet was heard, the
door was thrown open, and Happy Bill, panting
as if from a hard run, stood in the room.

“ Git guns, quick! Bad white man burn out
Sedley," he gasped.

Every man sprung for his gun, and for citing
all else dashed away in the direction of édley’s
cabin, about which the crack of rifles was yet
plainly heard.

 

CHAPTER VIII.
A DEADLY STRUGGLE.

Mn. Sn:an and Jim, upon entering their
cabin home, were warmly greeted by Mrs. Sed-
ley, who had been somewhat anxious when they
did not appear after the vendue nor as the night
wore on. She was a whole-sonled, hearty
woman, the wife for a man who wrought out
with his own hard hands the necessaries of life.

“Ah, old man,” she said, “I’m glad to see
you. I was getting anxious, I tell you."

“ Thought I was on a spree. didn‘t you, old
lady?” said Sedley, with a gay laugh. “Never ,
you fear for me! A man like me can’t afi'ord to
drink, for l’ve got a boy growin up here, and
won‘t set him a had exam 1e. e’s done right
well to—night, Jim has, ut he‘s too resky; I
must say it—too resky.”

“I didn’t haveno chance," said Jim. “Father
left me to ’tend bosses while he had all the fun,
and I don’t like it.”

“What have on been doing?” demanded Mrs.
Sedley, anxious y. “ No fighting I hope?”

“Wal, we did have a hit of s rimmage, old
girl. Not much fi hting about it, ’cause "we
run like thieves, al on us. A gen of men
pitched into us in the woods, and— ell your
ma‘mmy about it, Jim, while I give the animilee
a feed.”

The boy sat down b the fire, and, interrupt-
ed by exclamations oft ‘ The messy sakes alive,”
“do tell,” and “ who’d ’a’ thought it?" recount:
edtohis mother the adventures of the night.
She was terribly excited, for, woman-like, she
feared a. hidden enemy more than an open one.

“We know two of ’em, anyhow,” said Jim; _
“ Bill Brace and Con Thurston. and it won’t do
for them to linger. too long in this section or

 ,1

 

 

  

 

 

 

Night-hawk mu.

 

some of ’em will stretch a rope, sure. I‘m mor-
tal hungry, mammy; I wish you’d kinder hurry
up the grub.”

The good woman hustled about, and soon had
the table Spread, and placed upon it the pro-
visions she had kept warm before the fire.
Father and son sat down and made a. hearty
meal, never even pausing to answer the ques-
tions of the mother.

It was after one o’clock when Mr. Sedley put
up the bars on the doors and windows, and re
tired to rest. The cabin had been built in the
days when Indian attacks might be feared, and
would resist a strong assault. The loft was pro-
vided with loopholes for rifles, and presented a
solid double wall of heavy logs to heat back the
rifle-balls. In the dead of the night, Mr. Sedley
was aroused by a sharp rap at the door, and he
sprung out of bed, partly dressed himself, and
went to the door.

“ Who is there?” he demanded.

“ Let me in and I'll tell you,” replied a harsh
voice. “ I want to talk to you.”

“ Want must be your master, if you can’t
give a better reason than that," replied Sedley.
“ l‘rot away on the legs natur7 has given you or
I’ll put a bullet through you."

“ Don’t crow that way, Sam Sedley!" replied
the man outside. “ You’d better open the door;
it will be all the better for you."

“ See here, old lady,” whispered Mr. Sedley,
“ pass my rifles and ammunition up to Jim.
and get into the loft yourself. If these ain’t
robbers and hoss-thieves, I don’t want a red
cent."

Mrs. Sedley had lived too long upon the
border to be very much exalted. With a cool-
nesa which would have done credit to a veteran
soldier, she collect Ad the rlflLH and ammunition
and passed them up to J im, who was on hand,
delighted at the prospect of n muss. By this
time the applicant for admission was getting
Glamorous end was pounding on the door with
the butt of a pistol.

“ Now, look here, my friend,” said Sedley, in

y a. threatenin voice. “ I don’t want any trouble

witha man don’t know; but if you’ve got a
hoes. you mou’t as well climb on him and get
away pretty quick, because I’m liable to shoot,
any minnit."

“ 0h, dry up—do i” replied the man outside.
“We ain't the kind of chickens to scare eaSy,
and we want you to open the door."

“Can you see him, J im?" whispered Sedley,
looking up at his son in the loft.

bl Yes."

" How many can you see?”
“ I count ten from here. They’ve tied their

. beasts by the edge of the road and are coming

this ‘way. Every man carries a rifle, and I kin
see pistols, too.”

“ ’m glad the moon shines,” said Sedley.
“ We’ll mark some of the thieves down, as sure

‘ estate.”

“ Are ye going to open this yer’ door?” snarled
the man outside.

“ Jim, stand ready,” whispered Sedley.
“ Draw a head on him, and when I count five
shoot him through the shoulder. Don’t kill him
if you can help it.” Then to the man at
the door: “ No, I ain't going to open that door.”

 

 

d “LThen we’ll bu’st it in,” roared the scoun-
re

“ I’m goin to count five," said the borderer;
“ and it will healthy for you togit away from
that door before I git done. One!” V

“ I’ll make you sweat for this."

H Two!”

“ I’ll hev yer skulp, by the mortal~—”

“ Three l”

“ Yer kain’t skeer me——-what’s the use? I ain’t
one of them ’ar tel—J

“ Four!"

“ Oh, count away till yer breath gives out.”

H Five 1'!)

Crack 1 Jim’s rifle exploded the instant the word
dropped from his father’s lips. and the roman
outside uttered a yell of agony and clapped his
hand to his shoulder, from which the blood was
bubbling. Jim was a good shot, and he had
been looking along the brown barrel of the rifle
while his father counted, waiting anxiously for
the last word. Sam Sedley ran up the ittle
ladder which led to the loft and drew it after
him. This done, he closed the trap, stepped
rapidly to one of the loopholes and fired at the
advancing party. One of them threw up his
arms and dropped heavily to the earth.

“ Mehbe that’ll skeer them,” he said coolly.
“We ain’t going to be routed out of our own
shanty."

While he was reloading the rifle the enemy
dropped out of sight, crouching behind every-
thing which could afford them shelter.

“ Hold on,” cried one. “ Hullo, in the house,
what ar‘ ye shooting at?"

“ You’ll find out mighty soon if you don’ ick
up your truck and clear,” roared Se lay.
“ Come—git out i”

“ We want our friend.”

“ Waal, you won’t git him," said the bor-
derer. “I want toseehim, and when I know
his face, like enough we kin find out who his
friends are. A man is known by the company
he keeps, and wice wersa."

No reply was made, but the enemy began to
creep up by slow approaches from all sides, cov-
en'ng themselves from the shots of the father
and son by means of every object in the line of
the house. In that uncertain wavering . light,
it is not wonderful that the defenders did not
succeed in disabling any more of their assail-
ants, though several received slight wounds.

The whole party was soon ensconcvd under
the wall of the cabin, in such positions that it
was impossible to fire at them. Yet they were
in a perilous situation, for the watchful eyes
above were busy, and if one of the assailants
showed a finger it become the mark of a bullet.

" This is rough on us,” whispered one of the
men. “ Why not take the horses and put out?
We can lay out Sedley some other time.” ’

“He knows too much,” was the reply, “and
for our safety he must go down. See if on
can’t get your knife under that shutter, Jac J?

But the strong oaken shutters resisted their
united eflorts, and they began to realize that
they had put their heads into the jaws of the
lion without getting his permission .to take them
out again. Something must be done, and that
quickly, for the sound of rifles might bring as-

sistance to the besieged, The men collected‘

    
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
  
    
   
  
  
  
   
  
   
    
  
   
  
   
  
 
   
  
  
   
   
  
   
  
  
    
  
   
    
  
 
    

Night-hawk am.

19

 

near the door, and aimed their rifles at the same
spot, and fired together. Eight halls pierced
t e door just above the heavy bar which se-
cured it, and it required only a few strokes of a
bowie to make an opening lai' e enough to ad-
mit a man’s hand and arm. moment more,
and the door was thrown open and the wild
band trooped in.

They were all clad in buckskin and wore
masks which completely concealed their fea-
tures from the gaze of the assailed, who were
unable to identify a single man in the party.

“Now, Sam Sedley,” cried a voice, evident—
ly disguised, “ we want you, so you may as well
come down. You've shot two of the boys, and
you’ve got to answer for it."

“ I’ll shoot another of the boys if I git a head
on him," replied Sedley, changing his position
the moment he had spoken. A dozen pistol-balls
passed through the garnet floor where he had
stood a moment before.

“Are you going to yield!” demanded the

. ‘Speak quick, for we have no time to
waste."

“ Not a bit of it.”

“You’ve got your wife and boy up there,”
said the speaker. “Think, before you consign
them to a horrible death.”

“ You wouldn’t hurt a woman,” cried Sed—
leiy, anxiously. “ Come, I don’t think so mean
0 you as that.”

‘ We won’t hurt her or the boy if on give
up, Sam,” replied the spokesman. “ e’ve got
to have you.’

“ Don’t listen to him, father,” whispered Jim.
“ They'd kill you, and we might as well die here.
Oh, if Joe Bagley and Mr. Sanderson had only
come home with us.”

“ They may hear the shootin and come out,”
said the father, hopefully. “ ’ye hear down
there? We ain’t going to give up."

He had placed his wife in an angle of the loft
directly over the little bed-chamber, where she
was safe from the-bullets which the villains be-
gan to send through the floor, thick and fast.
But, although they flew close to the brave father
and son, not one touched the mark. Jim lis-
tened intently, and then fired his rifle through
the floor. A loud scream of pain from below
told him that the shot had found a mark. En—
couraged by this, Mr. Sedley discharged his
was n with alike result.

“ rse them 1” roared a voice below; “they
won’t give up; let’s burn ‘em out!”

The cruel proposition was hailed with delight
by the ruflian band, who began to collect com-
bustible material upon the floor of the cabin.
Beds and bedding were thrown in one great
heap, but the leader stayed the hand which
would have thrown a brand upon the ile.

“Once more, Sam Sedley,” he cri , “ I give
your wife a chance for her life. The boy has
sealed his own fate and must go With you. Will
you two yield it the woman is allowed to go
free?"

“Yes, yes,” cried Sedley, eagerly; “will you
promise that she shall be allowed to go, and that
no man shall lay a finger on her?"

a Yes, yes."

" Hold on i” cried the clear voice of Mrs. Sed-
ley. “ Do you think I will trust such villains as

 

that? What is their word good for? No. if
we’ve got to die, let us die together, in the
name of God.”

“ My dear wife,” said the borderer “ you may
be right—l am afraid you are—but I can’t bear
to throw away a chance to save your life.”

“ There is no chance to save life and honor,”
she said, hoarsely. “It is in God’s hands, my
husband; let us die nobly, if we must."

“ That’s the talk I” spoke up Jim. “ We won’t
give up to them.”

Sedley was infected by the heroism of his wife
and boy. Not that he lacked bravery, but his
desire to save her had made him forget the char-
actm of the men below. His indecision was
over now, and he caused Jim to load the rifles
carefully and to stand ready. This done, he
suddenly flung open the trap and snatched his
rifle from the hand of his wife. Before he could
fire, the nun who held the brand fell, shot
throu h the heart by Jim, whose aim was dead-
ly. hen the other rifle cracked and a second
man measured his length n n the floor. With
a hoarse cry of re e the eader of the robber
band caught the rand from the hand of the
dead and flung it upon the heap which at once
sprung into a blaze and the assailants retreated
to the outside and formed a circle about the
house with their rifles cocked.

“ Now, then, we have them,” cried the masked
leader; “ not one of them shall esca ."

Indeed, they seemed to be doom . The char-
acter of the material of which the heap was
composed was such that it at once sprung into a
bright flame which streamed up to the floor of
the cabin loft in which the victims stood. There
was an ax in the loft, and, grasping it with both
hands, the brave borderer broke open the roof,
and made a space wide enough to admit the
passa e of a human body. In this opening he
pin the ladder which had formed the means
of access to the loft, and ordered his wife to go
up on the roof where she would' be out of dan-
ger for the present. . r

“ Good heavens, lieutenant,” said one of the
nssailiug party. “ Let’s save the woman; I can’t
stand it.’

“ Keep back I" replied the leader, fiercely.
“ Do not dare to take a step to her rescue, for
she must go with the rest now. I have no doubt
that Sai'n has told her everything.”

Mrs. Sedley was now standing on the roof in
full view, and she stretched out her hands in a
gesture of proud defiance. Her husband fol-
lowed her, showing himself boldly ugon the roof,
for in his present deadly strait, 9 preferred
death by the bullet to death in the flames. He
shook his clinched hand threatenineg at his
enemies. Jim in a moment was also on the
roof, and stood with folded arms looking out
upon the space lighted up by the fire.

“ It’s no use talking ” said the man who had
proposed saving Mrs. dley; “they are game
to the core, and will die so.”

The fire was spreading rapidly, and was al-
ready attacking the roof upon which they stood.
The doomed family had given up hope, and
Sam Sedley openly defied his enemies to fire.

“ Aim at my breast, cowards and.dogs as you
are," he screamed. “ I am ready to die. since it
is the will 0! God. Shoot, it you dare l”

 

 

20 Night-hawk em.

 

Not a hand was lifted, and the red flames hot
up through the opening which had been made
in the roof, and shed a strange mellow light
upon the scene. Mrs. Sedley did not blench,
but Jim, thinking always of the possibilities,
dragged the ladder out of the fire and laid it
upon the roof, near the eaves. The Villains
stood appalled at the stern resolution of their
victims, when the rush of hurrying feet startled
them, and a rifle—shot brought down one of their
number. The doomed family looked up, and by
the light of the burning dwelling, saw Happy
Bill calmly reloading his rifle, while Sanderson,
Joe and the two Irishmeu were coming up rap-

idl .

‘yfloorayl” yelled Jim: “ lay low, father! By
the mighty snakes we are saved!"

The assailants did not hesitate. There was a
hurried rush for the horses, and mounting in
hot haste, awe they went at full speed, while
Jim and his fat or hastily placed the ladder and
assisted Mrs. Sedley, nearly fainting with joy,
bathe ground. Jim caught up his rifle which
was yet loaded and pointed it after the flying
* horsemen. but the distance and the wavering
light made his aim uncertain, and they thun-
dered down the road, just as the rescue-party,
panting for breath, but with joyful races,
rushed up to the spot. They had not come
too soon.

CHAPTER IX.
HAPPY ON A scour. ,

TWO of the dead ruflians lay upon the sod
where they had fallen—one of them the man
who had been shot through the shoulder by Jim
at the very beginning of the affray. They went

up to him, as he lay upon his back, and found

that he had a second wound, and the one which
had caused his death—a knife-wound in the
breast! '

“ See that,” said Joe Bagley. “This yer’ chap
was hurt, and they was afraid he’d spit out
what he knowml, and so they knifed him. That
is what I call kussid mean.”

, It was true; the man was too badly hurt to
move, and one of the rufl‘ians had stabbed him
to the heart sooner than take any chancas of

betrayal.

‘-‘ hat’s enough, for me," said Joe Bagloy,

fiercely. “ That kind of men can’t stay in

Kansas now, you bet your life. It’s full time

. the Vigilantes took a hand in this game, and I’m
the boy to start 'em.” _

He tore the mall: from the face of the dead
man and looked at‘him by the light of the burn-
ing house.

“ Jack Rutt," he said. " A most dirty villain,
too, he is and desarvas any fate, no matter how

' bad. Who is the other?” .

Dan pulled the mask from the face of the
second dead man, and saw a noted half-breed
who was more than suspected of horse-stealing.

»“ Slipper Pete,” he said. “ Sure the mis—

uided vii 'in shtole me saddle last winter.
arm. 0 widhim wheriver he will thravell"

_ “I on’t think we need make any questions

, about this yer’,” said Joe. “ Thar ain’t either of

those dead cusses but what needed skulpin’ ears

_ ago, and we know that they was friends 0 this

yer’ Con Thurston. We’ll know whar to look.”

 

_“ I‘m with you, Joe,” said Mr. Sedley, grating
his teeth fiercely. “They‘ve burnt me out of
house and home, and now I think of nothing but
revenge. I’ll mark down the villains though I
die for it.”

“And I am with you, heart and soul,” said
Harry Sanderson, “ for when we hunt down
Con Thurston and his gang, I believe that we
hunt down the men who killed my father.”

“Sure it’s a free foightl” said Dan, with a
laugh, “an’ ye’ll have to count an Irishman in,
becoz afoight is his deloight.”

_“ Och, be the powers, Dan!" cried his brother;
“ it’s a poet ye are. I’d like foine to have a
brush wid them bla’g’ards, me own silt?!

“And we’ll hey it,” said Joe. “Thar ain’t
gnytging we kin save from the house, is thar,

am

“ No,” replied Sedley, gazing sadly on the
burning dwelling, which was now completely
enveloped in flames. “ Here, Happy,” he cried,-
turning to the Indian, who was standing near
by, with an interested look u on his noble face;
“ are you going to join us an fight these devils
nowi”

Happy stood and laid his finger upon the
bosom of Slippery Pete.

“ My rifle do flat,” he said, quietly. “ Happy
Bill our frien’.”

“ hnt’s so,” said Joe. “He was the one who
gave the alarm and brought us out to hel you,
and he’ll stand by us to the end, Bill. know
him, clear through.”

Happy Bill nodded approvingly, and patted
Joe affectionan on the shoulder. “You big,
good man,” he a dad. “I fight for you but I no
hurt white girl at cabin in woods. She good
gal, (let one.”

“ He means Nettie Forbes,” said Harry. “ No,
my friends; whatever happens, no harm must
come to her.” ,

“Hi!” said Happy. “S’pose she no put you
in cellar, white man take scalp, eh?"

He made a gestureas if removing the scalp.

from the head of an enemy, and Harry smiled
in spite of himself.

“ White gal smart,” said Happy, in a medita~
tive tone. Good ’nufl for chief wife, she be;
goo’l 'nulf for you.”

The flush in the face of Harry, showed that
the random words of the Indian had touched
him.

“ Hap y.” said Joe, “ you go and scout.
Watch iek Forbes, and Con Thurston, and
Bill Brace, for three days or until you find out
minothing‘. Report to me at the big cypress by
the cross-roads.”

Happy needed no further orders. Drawing
in his belt and throwing a hasty glance of fare-
well upon the party, he started at a long loping
trot, taking the direction pursued by the flying
robbers. The rest remained to collect any ar-
ticles which happened to be left out of the
house, put them maheap by themselves and
started for Fralick’s, meeting men on the road
in parties of two, and three, hurrying toward
the scene of the fire, armed and ready for battle.
They turned back as fast as they met the moaned
family, breathing out many border arr-we
against the outlaws who had burned out Sam
Sedley, a great favorite upon the border.

x .

Night-hawk mu. 1 21

 

“ We’ll make this sorry work for them, Sam,”
said one of the men whom they met. “ We’ll
see if they can ride roughrshod over us here in
Kansas. It‘s my opinion, that when we ,clean
out this party, we won‘t lose so many horses.”

“ I think you are right, Phillips," said Sedley.
“ We shall see, though. Scatter when you leave
me and call out the boys. You know who to
call and who to leave at home. Tell them what
is up, and that we camp to-night at the oak
opening below the lake, but to keep it quiet, for
we want to catch these fellows napping."

The Fralicks put their house at the service of
the Sedley family who were so suddenly left
without household goods, or dwelling—place.
Nothing in possession of the warm-hearted Irish-
men was too good for the victims of the night-
raid, and they were ominous in the threats they
made against the outlaw band. N 0 one thought
of sleep, but sat eagerly conversing and waiting
for lrho morning, when they could commence
wor .

In the mean time Happy Bill was on the trail
of the flying horsemen, who rode with a free
rein, until some miles intervened between them
and the burning house. Happy knew his powers,
and that he could tire the swiftest horse that
ever put foot on the ground in a long race. He
never changed his speed, but his ears were open
and he soon heard the distant sound of hoofs.
At that he let out a link in his speed, and dashed
on until the sound was loud enough for him to
follow it readily, but not too near for comfort.
0n the levels he would lose them; but when a
slope was reached, he pursuing the same steady
Pope, would pull up close to them, and so on,
until they turned from the main path and skirted
the shore of a little lake in the midst of a silent
wood. The path they followed was so intricate
that there was scarcely room for a single horse
to proceed. and the sound of their bodies brush-
ing through the leaves, was so loud that Happy
was able to follow within ten yards. The dark-
ness was intense, and these men must have been
well acquainted with the path to pursue it in
such utter darkness. Happy was now in his
element: scouting was his glory, and he knew
that few men could equal him in that subtle
art. He could hear the muttered hum of their
conversation, but could make out little in the
noise occasioned by the closely-bending branches.
But, he could make out that they were. cursing
their had luck in not being able to make an end
of Sedle and his family.

They ed the Indian over a rough path, but
with tireless patience he kept on his way, until
the glimmer of lights in front showed that they
were approaching some camp. Soon after the
party were challen ed, and giving some pass-
word, went on, leav ng Happy Bill at a stand.
He must that sentinel somehow, and pursue
his way, at he was a. prudent man although a
brave one. Dropping almost to the earth, and
bending his tall form, the Indian stole on with
noiseless step, until he saw just in from, the
dark figure of the sentinel, leaning against a
tree and watching the entrance to the pass.
His strong band rested‘ upon the muzzle of a
rifle, his pistols were in his belt, and he looked
like a man ready for action at a moment’s notice
Happy might have used his rifle, it is true, but

 

that would avail him nothing in the work be-
fore him. The man must be conquered silently
or not at all.

Dropping upon all-fours, he began to creep
toward the sentinel, going in such a direction as
to keep the tree between them. With wondrr-
ful caution, such as only the most finished smut
can use, he crept nearer and nearer the ohjeci
of his enmity, and at last rose slowly, and stood
with his back against the tree, while the semi-
nel remained upon the other side.

Most men in this position would have made a
rush upon the enemy; but not so Happy Bill.
He waited for a favorable moment, and While
he waited scarcely seemed to breathe, but his
dark eyes were flushing with the ardor of the
savage about to engage in battle. He knew by
the breathing of the sentinel,that he was drowsy,
and waited patiently for him to drop into a
doze. He did not wait in vain, for the man
slipped down upon the mossy roots of the tree,
drew the rifle across his knees. and fell asleep.
Happy Bill listened until the long-drawn
breath told him that the outlaw guard was
really sleeping; then creeping with cat—like cau-
tion frcm his hiding- lace, he suddenly threw
the sentinel to the cart , ressing his hand u n
his mouth as he did so. he man awoke to ad
the point of a sharp knife pressing against his
ribs, his pistols gone from his belt, and some
person astride of his body, who evidently had
no peaceful intentions re arding him.

“ You speak——me kill, hissed Happy. “ You
keep still !”

It is needless to say that the outlaw obeyed
him, and remained quiet under the tiger-like
grasp of the Indian, who proceeded to tie the
sentinel with his own belt, and to gag him nilh
his own knife—hilt. The man objected to this.
but only by struggles. He knew too well that
an outcry would'cost him his life. Having ren-
dered the prisoner incapable of further injury,
Happy bade him cod-by, politely, and proceed
ed on his way, 0 luckling to himself over his
success; A few paces further he entered a nar-
row pass, into which he had seen the horsemen
plunge, and following this for a little distance,
it came to an end so abruptly that he found him—
self almost within the circle of his foes before he
could recede. Indeed, another step would have
brought him in full view. Retreating into the
shelter of the bushes, which shielded the en-
trance to the pass, he looked upon a wild
scene, and one which took- him completely by
surprise.

A strange sort of village had been built up
within the little sheltered valley, which contain-
ed perhaps three acres of rich soil with a little
stream running through the center. The cabins
were of rude construction, most of them being
simply “ lean-to’s," propped against trees or
bowlders, while only two or three were regular-
ly built up of logs. Even these were old, and .
had probably been set up long before any of the
band had entered the strange haunt. Forty or
fifty men were in sight, most of whom had come
out of the huts to meet the ap reaching party,
who hastily dismounted an picketed their
horses in the o n space. As Happy Bill looked
about on the aces of the Night-hawks, he saw
men whom he had never for a moment suspect.

 

  

N ight-hawk Bill.

 

ed of engaging in this nefarious business—men
with whom he had crossed palms in friendship a
hundred times.

“ Dis bad,” he muttered; “ Happy sorry for
some men here.”

But a moment’s reflection convinced him that
the men who would mingle with their fellow-
men professing friendship while they were only
studying means to work them wrong, deserved
any fate. The raiding party dismounted. and,
as the leader came forward to the light, Happy
saw that it was Conrad Thurston!

“ Has the commander come in yet?" he asked,
turning to one of the men.

“No, lieutenant. What luck?”

“ The devil’s own,” replied Thurston, angrily.
“ Four men killed and five wounded, and that
cursed squatter escaped Without a scratch. We
burnt his cabin and should have burnt him in it
but that Joe Bagley came up with a party and
we had to get out of the way.”

“ That's might bad," said the man, in a
tone of deep to action. “ Who were in the

pari'g?”

“ 0 you think I stopped to count them?” was
the angry re ly. “ They shot Slippery Pete
before we con d get away, and the s uatter and
that devil’s kid of his had laid out om Ford,
Jack Rutt and the ‘ Scavenger.’ I tell you we
have had a hard time. Hark l"

A peculiar whistle was heard in the distance,
and all stopged and listened intently.

“ That’s t a commander,“ said Thurston. “ I
wonder what he went away for?"

“Been to see that prisoner that Karl keeps
back of his but."

“ 0h!" said Conrad, knitting his brows, “ that

is the idea, eh? I must have a talk with him
about that same prisoner."
Hapgy Bill had also heard the whistle, and
deeme that it was wise for him to beat a re—
treat, for the newcomer might inquire where
the sentinel was. Retreating with great cau—
tion. he hurried down the pass at a rapid pace
until he had passed the post of the sentinel, and
here be buried himself in the bushes and wait
ed. Not long after a man rode up, who stopped
near the tree and looked anxiously about him.

“ Now, where is that uardl” he muttered.
“ Curse him, I will have is life if he sleeps.
Guard!”

No reply was made and he leaped from his
horse and advanced toward the tree. As he did
so, Happy saw a dark figure roll out from be-
hind the tree, whom he recognized as the bound
sentinel, who used this his only means of loco-
motion to bring himself into view.

“ What is the matter?” hissed the new-comer,
drawing a knife. “ Why don’t you speak, Fen-
way?”

As he spoke. be bent closer and saw the knife—
blade protruding from the mouth of the senti-
nel. To cut his cords and remove the gag was
the work of a moment.

“Now, explain this at once, Fenwayl” cried
Forbes, angrily.

“ Explain. iti‘ Ain’t it enough for a man to be
trumed no like a beef critter without being ask-
edtoemplain it? He came up behind the tree
tirig jumped me before I knOWed anything about

0

l

 

“ Who?"

“ The Injun they call Happy Bill—~the Sioux.”

“Ah!” said Forbes, with a ferocious glance;
“so Happy Bill is one of our enemies, is be?
Well, we shall now know what to do with the
retiyhief if we catch him. Which way did he

0.

“ I couldn‘t hear; the cuss steps like a cat.”

“You shall get even with him some do , and
perha s soon. Get your rifle ready an wait
until get the dog. The cursed Indian shall
know that he can’t intrude upon us as he
chooses.”

The dog! When Happy Bill heard that he
started and a great tremor came into his limbs.
He had heard of the dog of which the other
spoke—a huge bloodhound, a gigantic savage
with the force and courage of a lion. He waited
to hear no more, but, gathering himself up, he
stole away into the woods, and once there com-
menced to run. He feared each moment to
hearthe bay of the bloodhound on his track;
nor had he long to wait, for a long, deep, savage
note arose and echoed thron h the silent woods.
It was nearly morning, an for half an hour
the Indian dashed on through the intricate
paths, making comparatively slow progress,
while the bay of the bloodhound came nearer
and nearer. He had nearly reached the edge of
the woods, when it sounded so close that he
threw forward his rifle and looked at the cap.
The morning had come, and all depended on his
aim. He dashed out into the opening, and whirl-
ing quickly, a hundred yards from the woods,
took a rest across a low stump and waited.

Not long, for, with a demoniac bowl, the mad
beast burst out of the thicket, the foam drop-
pin from his red lips, and rushed at the kneel-
ing ndian, who took deliberate aim and pulled
the trigger. ‘He had the dog covered and was
sure of his aim, but the cap snap , and he
cast down the useless rifle, threw t e folds of
his blanket about his left arm, drew his knife
with his right and waited the 'onset. As the
dog made his leap, the brave Indian thrust for-
ward his left arm, and the teeth of the brute
closed upon it, with terrible force. In spite of
the double folds of blanket, the very bones
seemed to crack beneath the power of those
terrible jaws. Happy struck out and buried
his knife to the hilt in the ribs of his gigantic
adversary. He recoiled. and shaking his teeth
loose from the folds of the cloth, seized the
Indian by the shoulder and dragged him
down.

In spite of the horrible pain. Happy Bill never
lost his head for a moment. His eyes were fixed
upon that point behind the shoulder of the
dog where he meant to strike the fatal blow.
Even while the teeth were meeting in the
flesh he thought of that, and bringing his right
arm back. he struck. So fierce was the blow,
and so well directed, that the great knife, over
eighteen inches in length, was buried to the hilt
in the body of the dog. He gave a convulsive
leap. which lacerated the shoulder of the Indian
more than ever. and fell dead upon the earth,
the knife buried in his heart.

“ White man cuss some more,” said Happy,
as he rose and staggered on his way. “Happy
Bill big warrior nom".

    
        
   
   
   
   
   
    
  
    
 
  
   
   
   
    
  
  
   
   
  
  
 
   
 
    
  
  
  
   
   
  
    
  
  
  
  
   
    
 
  
    

 

Night-hawk Bill. 23

 

CHAPTER X.
THE VIGILANTES.

THE notes of busy rEleparation were sounding
along the border. e men who had sworn to
root out crime from Kansas were gathering
from far and near at the rendezvous by the
lake. They came with rifle, pistol, hatchet and
knife. to mete out justice to those who had of-
fended against the unwritten law of Kansas.
Men of all nations and all ages—youth, man-
hood and old a e—gathered to do the work of

udges. Joe agley, by common consent, had

een elected captain, and Harry Sanderson was
his lieutenant. The reckless bonhomie of the
young New Yorker pleased the men of the bor-
der; and he could shoot l—not by any means
the. smallest recommendation in the eyes of the
Kansas men.

Over two hundred men had come into the
camp, when Harry Sanderson called them to-
gether and made a short speech.

“ It is not likely, men, ’ he said, “that more
than a hundred rifles will be needed in this
business. That bein the case, I have a propo—
sition to make. Th are men of family here——
men who have wives and children who look to
them for bread. Such have no right to risk
their lives when there are young hands enough
to do the work. I therefore propose that all
who have wives and children, or who support
aged arents, come out of the ranks.”

“ 0, you don’t, Harry l” cried Sam Sedley.
“ I’ve got to have a hand in this.”

“ You can send your son, who is as brave
a boy as ever stepped. Will you put it to
vote?"

“ I don’t take it kind in you to lay this game
on me,” said Sedley, in an in 'u tone. “Why,
do you think I’m going to burnt out of my
ranch and then keep out of the ions when the
boys 0 after the varmintl No, no, Harry; try
somet ing else.”

Such a storm of opposition was raised by the
older men that Harry, laughingly, gave up the
idea. Parties were still coming in, and at last
three men appeared. dragging with them the
rufiian known as Bill Brace.

“We found this critter streaking it along
the south road, Captain Bagley," said one of
the captors, “ and we thort mebbe you‘d like to
talk to him.” »

“Sart’in,” said Joe Bugley. .“Bill, my flue
feller how are ye?”

“ one of yer business,” was the sulky reply. ,

“ Now, don’t r’ile up that ’ar way, Bill,” said
the captain. “It won’t do any good, and it
makes me feel bad. Thar’s a drefful heap of
suspicion ag‘in’ ye, Bill.”

“ You want to let me go loose, that’s what you
want,” said Bill. “1 was going for a doctor;
I ain’t well."

“1 can attend to you,” said Barry Sanderson.
“ What is the matter with you?”

“ I’ve got a ball in me,” replied Bill, in the
same sullen tone, “ and I want it took out. But
you ain’t going to do it, mister. I don’t choose
to be cut up by any young cutter an‘ carver
that claims the trade. ’ i

" He wants to see my diplomas,” and Harry,
lau hing. “ T have them, signed by the Board
of t Albany Medical College and the London

 

Board. Those two papers are good evidence
that I understand my business. Where are
you hurt?”

“You sha’n’t touch me, youngster,” snarled
Night-hawk Bill. “ You’ve got a spite ag’in‘ me
and I ain’t safe under your hands.”

“ Look here, you pitiful coward,” said Harry.
“ If I wanted your life I could take it now and
no one of these men but would say it serve you
right. Twice you have attempted robbery and
murder, but you have failed. We want infor—
mation, and we intend to get it out of you.
Where were you hit?” ‘

“ In the shoulder,” growled Bill.

“ Take off his shirt, boys,” said Joe, cheer-
fully. “ How did you get hurt, P'izen?”

“ My rifle went off by accident,” growled Bill.

“We‘ll see how much truth thar is in that
yarn when we git the bullet," said Joe, in the
same easy, good-natured tone. “ Thank the
pigs. every man hcz a mark on his bullet-mold.”

While they were speaking, the men had torn
and cut awa the shirt from the right shoulder
and arm of ill Brace, leaving the wound ex
pesed. It was a peculiar one, being in the upper
part of the shoulder and directed downward, a
wound almost impossible for a man to give him-
self by accident.

“I guess you stood on your head when you
shot Verself here,” said Joe. “ Come; don’t be
a fool. You couldn’t hit yerself in the 11 per
part of the shoulder if you was to try. ow,
where did ye git that wound?”

“ None of yer business,” growled Brace.

“ All right, git the ball out, Doc. Arte]- all,

that is the best guide.”

“ It won’t be much of a trick to get this bul—
let.” said Harry, laying his finger upon a lump
in the muscle of the right shoulder. “ Give me
that knife out of the case. Jim. No, no, the thin
one with the silver handle. That will do. Stand
flrm, my man, and in three seconds the ball
shall be out. "

The knife flashed a moment above the naked
back of the captive, and the bullet rolled out
into the hand of the surgeon.

“ The mark is the letter ‘ G.’ upon a circle,”
said Barry.

“ That is my mark i" cried Sam Sedley. “ You
devil; you were at my house last night I”

“ It’s a lie,” roared Night-hawk Bill. “ Who

sez I was?”

“ No matter about that. Boys, when the
black-hearted scoundrels were in the room below
Jim and I fired through the floor. Jim hitvsorne
one, for he 'elled out. This chap might have
got the bu let that way, fur Jim uses my
mark.”

“ It’s a plot to ruin me.” hissed Bill. “ Cursa
you, it you kill me, I’ll come out of my grave
to haunt you. I wasn’t nigh to Sam Sedley‘s
last night.”

“ Perhaps you deny having chased me in the
early part of the night?” said Harry Sanderson.

“No I don’t,” said Bill. “ You had insulted
me, and I wanted satisfaction.”

“ How did I insult you?"

“Didn’t you draw iron on me when I wasn’t
fixed, and degrade me before my friend? Yes.

I own I wanted to git even with this younc fcl-.

ler, but I don’t know anything ag’inst that.”

Listeria; . . a. ~ 

  

r4,

    

Nighthawk Bill.

 

“ Git a rope, boys,” said Joe Bagiey. ” I don’t
reckon we’d better waste time with this critter,
’cause his ekal for lying don’t dwell in Kansas.
Why don’t some on you bring a lariat?”

“ He ain’t tried yet, captain,” said one of the

men.
“Tried! What d’ye want to try him for?
Ain't he guilty? Didn’t Harry see the cuss
racing down arter him, pistol in hand? And
aingitgyye morilly sarn’in he was at Sedley’s last
in

E He ought to have a trial!” shouted another.

“ Trial! give him a. trial; I’ll be president ov
the court-martial. But he’s got to be hung for
his own good.”

“ I reckon it’s eulogy. waste of time, boys,”
said Joe, quietly. “ hy don’t you bring that
lariat, some of on? And while that’s twining,
we may as we 1 take a vote. What d’ye say,
boys: does this critter desarve hanging or not?
As many as think he duz, hold up the right
hand.”

Every hand was lifted.

1  its many as think he don’t, up with thé
e .

Not a hand was raised.

“That lets you out you know, you carroty‘
headed skunk of misery,” said Joe. " But, we
don't banker arter your death so much that we
won’t let ye go cl’ar if you’ll tell us whar yer
friends make the’r camp."

“ You just wait until I tell you anything,”
was the sullen reply.

" All hunky, my boy,” replied Joe. “ It’s
your own meat, but I think as how you ar’ cut-
ting it too fat. Now, look yer’; it‘s the sentence
of the court that you be strung up b the neck
until you ar’ dead. Why don’t you ring that
lariat?"

“ You wouldn’t hang me?" cried the captive,
turning pale. .

“ I rather guess yes, my friend. Throw the
eend of the rope over that limb, boys: I reckon
it’ll hold the cuss. Go under the tree, Bill;
you’ve got ter pass in your checks.”

“But this is murder ” gasped Brace. ” You
don’t give a man no sip; t fur his life.” 7

“ No more we don’t intend to, Bill; you don’t
deserve it. And yet, it don’t seem right for a
Christian man to string up a heathen like you.
I wish an Injun would happen along.”

He had scarcely spoken, when Happy Bill

' dashed into the camp; the calico of! his hunting-

shirt, soaked with blood. and his left arm hang—
ing useless by his side.

“Hooray!” cried Joe; “here he is, the red
cues. Glad to see ye, Happy, by the hokies.

r Any luck?”

Happy nodded, and looked significantly at
Bill Brace.
“Oh, you don’t want to talk afore him, eh?

I It don‘t make much differ, as we are going to

string him up. What is the matter With yer
shoulder?"

“ Big dog, bite." replied Happy. “ Him neb-
ber bite any more; ugh 1”

“See here, Happy Bill," said Brace, “can’t
you say a word. for e feiler? These yer’ men
want my life—they do, and I don't want to die.”
airbag; you die like dog, and you ought to

e

 

" That ain’t fair, Happy,” howled Bill. “ Let’s
fight it out like men, on a dead level, and no
fooling. I’ll fl ht you with the gaffe, or on my
own heels; I'll ght you any way."

“ Quit talking,” said Joe. “ Once fur all, will
ya tell us whar yer friends are camped?”

" I kain’t do that,” replied Bill. “I've got a
mortal oath to break, and I don’t dare do it.”

“Then go under the tree,” said Joe. “We
ain‘t got no more time to waste.”

Bill advanced, as if to obey the order, but
turning suddenly, he (Faced one hand upon the
back of a horse. an leaped nimbly into the
midst of the corral. For a moment, they lost
sight of him, in the confused mass of horses, but
when he appeared again he had cleared the cor-
ral, and p unged into the bushes on the other
side. Half adozen swift runners darted after
him, but the fleet-footed villain had already
buried 'mself in the dense thicket, and they
could on yfollow his trail. He made for the
swamp, which bordered the shore of the lake,
satisfied that if he once gained its shelter, he
would be able to elude his tireless pursuers,
whom he could hear alrfldy on the trail, spread-
ing out to the right and left as they came, in
order to surroun him. He reached the swamp
in advance of them, and broke through the
cover, leaping from tussock to tussock, hearing
the s )unds of fiursuit gradually dying away in
the distance. 0 began to hope more and more,
when there started u from the swamp an
enemy, at the sight of w om, his blood ran cold.

It was the maniac prisoner of Dick Forbes.
His figure seemed preternaturally tall, as ho
starte up from the cover, his white hair and
heard floatin§ out on the breeze, and'a heavy
ax gleaming n his right hand. The expression
of his countenance was terrible, for he recog-
nized in Bill Brace one of his worst persecutors
and enemies. Brace recalled with ashriek of
terror as the white specter darted at him.

“Aha!” he screamed. “Here is one more.
Now, do , I wlll drink your blood.”

Night- awk Bill darted away at his utmost
speed, but, fast as he fled, the strange being in
pursuit rapidly closed on him, and he must
once the uselessness of flight. Turning sudden~
1y, he darted under the ax. to quickly that the
blow as it fell did not harm him, and be grasped
the maniac about the body. To his horror, the
gra heard dropped his ax, and clutched him
wit a muscular force of which he had not
dreamed him capable,

“ Ha, villain 1’ he hissed. “give me back mfi
son; give me back the life I have lost, and te
me why I am here!”

fl “ I’Downl” shrieked Brace, “ or beware the
re.

This, which in his prison would have fright—
ened the maniac, had no effect upon him now.

“There is no fire here,” he hissed. “I will
give you water to drink—water and blood.
Down, you dog! Go where I haVe sent Karl."

A fearful struggle now began, the strong man
fighting for his life, as only a desperate man
can. p and dovvn the little patchof level
ground—stumbling over broken limbs, and
Csip-lashing through stagnant pools, locked in a

oath-grapple, they went. But the strength of
the madman seemed to augment as the struggle

 

       
 
   
   
 
  
    
  
   
  
  
   
  
   
  
   
   
   
  
   
  
 
   
     
  
   
   
  
 
  
    
   
   
  
 
   
 
 
 
   

 

2'
s
l
l
3
i
z
i

Night-hawk Bill. 25

 

continued, while Brace felt himself rowing
weaker. The fierce laughter of the o (1 man
never ceased, even while he fought, and Bill
began to cry for help.

‘ This way!” he screamed, and he heard voices
and the s lashingaof water as the pursuers came
on. “ elpl e will murder me in cold
blood I”

The maniac shifted his grasp, and fastened his
long, claw-like talons in the throat of Bill Brace.
The ruflian felt that his last hour had come, and
the demoniac laughter of his adversary drove
him wild. To struggle was useless now, and as
life and sense faded away, the wild laughter
rungiout through the swamp.

“ al hal hal Come and help him, quick]
He is choking! He cannot cry for help, the
black dog! So Karl cried out when my fingers
fastened on his throat,”

The pursuers were now close at hand, but his
work was done. The limbs of Night-hawk Bill
no longer moved, and his protrudin tongue
seemed to mock his slayer. Harry A anderson
and Joe Bagley strug led out of the swamp just
as the madman leaped away in the bushes, mak—
ing the forest ring with his cries. But he had
done his work, and Bill Brace was dead.

CHAPTER XI.
KARL moon's DOOM

THE madman had disappeared so suddenly
that they had only a fleeting glim se of him as
he plunged headlong into the thic et. and they
stood above the blackened corpse of the outlaw,
lookin at it in wonder and dismay.

“He 3 god out—that’s what’s the matter
with him, ’ said Joe; “ but who done the trick?
That’s what I want to know.”

“ It looked like a very old man," replied Ear-
ry ' “ but he must have been wonderfully strong
to kill this desperado in a haud-to-hand struggle.
Oh, hero is an ax.”

“ It has not been used, though.” said Joe, tak-
ing it up and looking at the bright blade.

‘ There is something here which I am far
from understandiu , Joe.”

“It gets me, too, ’ was the answer. “ Howso—
ever, he has saved us a job, and all we’ve got to
do is to berry the critter where he lies."

He caught up the ax and began to scoo up
the earth on the ed e of the swamp island. ar—
ry assisted him in t e work, and in ten minutes
the had dug a shallow grave, in which they
lai the slain man to rest. His wild life was at
an end forever. Just as they commenced to
throw:i the earth upon the body, Happy Bill ap-

are .

De“ Somebod kill him, eh?” he said.

“Yes, Bil ; but we don’t know who it was.
An old man with gray hair and beard. Have
you ever seen him ’

Happy Bill shook his head and looked long-
ingly at the scalp of Bill Brace. Joe under-
stoodN the loorlf at once}. h t.

o no. a y; p ay 3. square ame, w a
ever ydu do. fip ou'd ’a’ killed him, his ha’r
belonged to you, at seein’ some one else done
the job, it stands to reason you haiu’t got no
ri ht to the ha’r.”

appy said nothing, but u to throw the

 

loose earth over the body with ' foot. It took ,

 

but a little time to fill the grave, and they
trampled it dewn hard upon him.

“ That job is done. Let us go back to camp,"
said Joe.

They turned and left the island, whistling, as
they passed along, to call in the men who were
still on the pursmt. In a short time the whole
party were assembled, and Joe recounted the
manner of the escaped risoner’s death.

“ It's all right, boys, ’ sager concluded Joe.
“ He ain’t arter us, and if he always shows as
good jedgment about the men he kills as he has
done this time, we won’t quarrel. Now then-—
business.”

 

Let us return to the camp of the outlaws after
Dick Forbes had let the bloodhound low upon
the track of the Indian. They had found the
dog where he had been left by Happy Bill. with
the blood from his heart dyeing the grass n n
which he lay, and many were the maledictions
showered on the Sioux by the outlaws. Forbes
heard the report of Thurston with many mis-
givings, and remained for some momentsin deep
thought.

“We must mark out a new trail, Con,” he
said, at last. “This country will be too hotto
hold us, and the sooner we are cut of it the
better. I wish we had these horses 01! our
hands, and we would scatter this very day. By
the way, Con, look at this."

He showed the young man the piece of paper
upon which the madman had traced the sig-
nature, the night before.

b “tho wrote that?” cried Thurston, starting

ac .

"The man himself; you see that he has not
forgotten how to write. Now, if we could get
his signature to certain papers, which I have al-
ready made out, we could enrich ourselves
without trouble—that is, you and I. The rest
may take care of themselves.”

. hurston laughed. with a keen look at the
men lounging around.

“ But, suppose he won’t sign?”

“I think we can persuade him to do it,” was
the reply, with 9.100 of dark meaning. “ After
he has signed, we have. only to lock the cavern
door upon him, and famine will do the rest.”

“I would give five years of my life if we
could lock Sanderson in with him," muttered
Thurston.

“ It would be better, perhaps,” replied Forbes
“ Still we must risk nothing, and it the mad-
man signs these papers, we will leave our
worthy friends to take care of themselves, and
strike out fora civilized life. In Euro we
can make u for the troubles we have adin
this cursed Wilderness."

“Yet we can’t complain, after all,”respond-
ed Thursw . “There is nearly a hundred
thousand dollars deposited in the name of
Richard Forbes and Conrad Thurston, in the
Planters’ Bank.”

“ It is not enou b,” said Forbes, witha greedy
look. “I must ave more, for in Europe we
shall be princes or nothing. Come—we will
take our horses and ride down to the cave-
prison, and see what we can find there."

The camp was left in charge of Ben Biker. a
desperado who had been absent for some weeks,

"-1,?" __

   

 

23 N ight-hawk. Bill.

 

and had just come in. He had strict injunc-
tions to suil‘er no struggling, and to keep a close
Watch. This attended to, the leaders rode
away by the most secluded paths until they
arrived at the solitary cabin which Forbes had
visited the night before. , Thurston knocked
loudly for admittance.

“ It is no use,” said Forbes, laughing. “ I
brought Karl a bottle of whisky, and he is prob-
abl as drunk as 3. lord by this time. Let us go in.”

hey drove in their picketpins and opened
the door. Karl was nowhere in sight.

“ I told you so,” said Forbes. ” The fellow is
full, and is probably in his bunk. See if the
Prussian is there.”

Thurston Rushed aside a ragged curtain and
looked into t e bunk, but found it empty.

“ This is singular,” muttered Forbes. “ I
suppose he has wandered of]? into the woods.
We will take care of ourselves, and perhaps it is
as well that he should not suspect what we are
doing.”

He opened a pocket in the lining of his blouse,
and took out two or three legal-looking docu-
Lnents, and something which looked like a bank-

ook.

“This paper.” he said, touching. one of them,
“orders the Planters‘ Bank to deliver without
question the package left by our prisoner, two
years ago. In that (package are jewels to the
value of two hundre thousand dollars.”

“ Whew!” said Thurston.

“Understand me: these jewels by right be—
long to me. but they shall be divided with the
rest. The bank—book is good for one hundred
thousand dollars, after being signed by our pris-
oner, and the remaining paper is a deed of his
property in New York. I am afraid to say how
much that is worth.”

“ We shall be kings instead of princes,” said
Thursmn, drawing a deep breath. “ Let us get
to, work at once.”

“ Fill that bruzier with charcoal and light it.”
orderel Forbes. “ Where are those irons? We
may have to persuade him to sign these papers.”

“ And if he refuses?”

“ He dare not refuse, for you know how he
fears the fire.” '

Thurston got out a small iron brazier from a
closet, filled it with charcoal and lighted it.
From the same corner he brought out some
small iron rods, which he laid upon the floor be—
side the brazier. They waited for some mo«
ments until the coal was glowing in the brazier,
when the young man took it up. and gave a sig—
nal to For as to lead the way. He took the iron
rods and opened the door which led into the
cavern, when he gave a cry of astonishment.

“ The door is open, Con,” he cried. “ What
does this mean?"

“ Go on,” replied Thurston, hurriedly. “ We
will make Master Karl sweat for this.”

F )rbes strode on rapidly and reached the
inner door of the cavern, which stood rtly
open. He pushed at it, but something eavy
kept it in its place. Giving a harder push, he
stumbled into the room, and fell over some ob~
struction which blocked up the dporway, utter-

, inga cry of horror as he did so. Thurston fol-

lowed him in. and the brazier nearly dropped
from his hand.

 

Karl lay dead upon the floor, his skull crushed
like an egg-shell. In one hand he held a long
whip with braided tails, similar to those used on
board a man-of—war, and knOWn as the “cat,”
and in the other a. bottle, half-empty. There
was an expression of fearful agony upon his
bruised and bleeding face, as if he had not died
without a stru gle. A large hammer lay upon
the floor near t 9 wall, bes1de the broken chain
which had so long bound the maniac prisoner,
who was nowhere to be seen.

“ No wonder the poor fellow did not answer
our call. How did this happen? and what are
weto do now?” "Forbes was evidently discon-
certed.

“You may thank your bottle of whisky for
this,” said Thurston. “I know the Prussian
well, and can see how he brought this fate upon
himself. He made himself drunk after you left
him, and thought to relieve the monotony of his
life by abusing the maniac. Being intoxicated,
he ventured incautiously within reach of his
arm. and you see the result.”

“ But the hammer,” said Forbes; “ how did he
get that?"

Thurston shrugged his shoulders.

“Who can tell what freak was in Karl’s head
when he came here? The fool did not know
what he was doing, and received his just de-
serts. But, we must not delay, for the maniac
must be captured at all hazards.”

“You are right, Con. Take your horse and
ride hard for the camp. Pick out five or six of
the best trailers and bring them here and it
will go hard» if we do not hunt the fox to earth."

Thurston hurried out of the dismal place,
closely followed by Forbes, who stood in the
door looking after him as he rode away. The
man was deeply troubled by the course which
events had taken within the past few days. The
maniac. if he recovered his senses, as he might
do when free, knew enough to ban him.

“ Ten thousand curses on the and of the
Prussian. He has ruined the work of a life-
time.”

He closed the door carefully and re-entered
the cabin. Sitting down at the table, be buried
his face in his hands, in deep thought.

“ I might have been 8. ha py man if I could
have been an honest one,” e muttered. “ But
love and avarice, those twin monsters. led me
astray. My poor Annette! what will become
of you if I fail in this? I must give her to
Thurston. yet I fear that he will break her
heart, for he is more wicked than I am."

He did not know that the door had b8"‘l ‘

pushed open, nor hear the stealthy. sliding stop
upon the floor. Suddenly. without warning.
two bony hands clutched him b the throat and
dragged him backward upon be floor, and in
an a. ony of terror im 'ble to describe, he
saw t e terrible face of t e maniac close to his!

“Hal ha! ha!” the frenzied creature scream-
ed: “ who is it that triumphs now?”

For a single moment only Forbes lay supine
under the tiger grasp of the maniac, and then
he made a frantic eflort to free himself. Fail-
ing in that, he thrust his hand into the bosom of
his hunting-coat in search of a. pistol, but the
maniac clutched him by the wrist with a force
under which the very bones seemed togive way.

     
   
   
   
  
 
  
  
  
    
  
   
  
   
  
   
  
   
   
   
   
    
   
  
   
  
   
   
  
     
   
   
   
   
    
   
  
  
  
  
   
   
  
   
   

 

/' Night-hawk Bill. 2’,

 

“ No, no!” he hissed; “lie still or I will beat
out your brains a ainst the floor, or strangle
you as I strangled race just now.”

“ Bill Brace?" gaSped Forbes.

“Yes, Bill Brace. Call him and see if he will
come to you. It isn‘t a mile away where I left
lhifmb dead. Ha! hal ha! How he prayed for

1 e.

“ You dog!” cried Forbes.
I will burn you to a blister.”

“ Ha! ha! hal How can you burn me when I
hold you down? Karl came to burn me. He
heated the hammer hot, I was ready for him.
How he yelled when my hands fastened on him
and drag ed him down .upon the stones. Ha!
ha! hai am free—free!”

Even as he spoke, he released one hand and
caught up a lariat, which he had brought from
the outside, stolen probably from his prisoner’s
own horse. He had cut it into three pieces,
and with one of these, proceeded to bind his
prisoner’s hands. His feet were served in the
same manner, and he lay helpless. At this mo-
ment his eyes rested upon the burning brazier,
which Thurston had brought from the cave, and
the iron rods.

“ Beware the fire.

“Ha! ha! hal I’ll burn you with the irons
and then lock you in the cave. I will be re-
vengedl”

Forbes uttered a shriek of agony, for he felt
that his last hour had come.

 

CHAPTER XII.
THE DEATH PASS.

CONRAD Taonsron rode hard, for he knew
well how much degended upon his speed, yet it
was nearly noon w en he reached the camp of
the outlaws, and began to select the men he
needed for the work before him. He had hardly
completed the task, and the men were saddling
their horses, when Annette, mounted upon a
fiery mustang colt, rode into the camp.

“Where is father?” she cried, in an excited
tone. “ I must see him.”

“ He is at Karl’s house,” replied Thurston.
“ What do you want of him?”

“ You are in danger here,” she replied. “The
Vigilantes are up and it will need hard riding
to save yourfiecks.”

“ Where are they?” he cried.

“ That I do not know. Happy Bill came to
me this morning and told me to warn my father
of the danger, and to warn no one else. I could
not do that, and I came to you. Haste! There
is not a moment to lose. for already they may
ma be upon the march.”

‘ Curse them, we will make it a hot road for
them. Who is their leader?”

“Joe Eagle and—”

“You as not tell me the name. It is that
cursed Sanderson whom I hate, now, more than
ever. Ten thousand demons! to get even with
him. I would almost lose you."

“You have a cruel nature,” she said. “ Why
need there be any fighting? You have time to
scatter and nearly all will escape.”

“ We should get picked up, man by man, and
strung up to the nearest tree. No; we must
hang together or we shall hang separately. So
we will fight it out where we stand.”

'fell, fighting as on]

 

At this moment a sharp alarm-whistle was
heard from one of the guards.

“ Masks l” cried Thurston. “ Get your rifles,
boys, and stand read . We are in a trap, but
we can make it a bl y trap to them, if we are
brave men.”

The outlaws caught up their weapons, ran
out into the pass, and silently ranged themselves
in convenient covers. Each man wore his
mask, for some might escape and they did tot
care to have their faces known to the Vigilancs.

The battle was begun by the defenders, who
attempted to pick 01! the scouts as they ad-
vanced. But, the movements of these men
were well covered by others who lay concealed
and fired whenever one of the outlaws showed
enough of his person for a mark. Consequentl
a careful aim was out of the question, and a -
thou h some wounds were given, not a man had
been illed. when Joe Bag ey succeeded in tore.
ing sixty of his best men within forty yards of
the mouth of the pass.

Suddenly a second party, nearly as strong as
the first, made a forward movement and in so
doing drew the fire of many of the outlaws. who
were taken by surprise and fired before Thurs-
ton could forbid them.

This was the moment for Joe Bagley. Half
the opposing rifles were empt . His signal yell
rung through the woods, an , as the Vigilanies
heard it, sixty men slipped out of the cover and
made a dash at the mouth of the pass. They re-
ceived a weak volley, which dropped two or
three of their number, but did not stop them,
and they were in the pass before the outlaws
could reload. Up started the horse-thieves,
knife and hatchet ready, and a bloody battle
began in the narrow way.

Harry Sanderson would have singled out
Thurston in the first rush, but Joe Bagley was
before him. As he advanced Thurston dis—
char ed a pistol and Bugle threw up his hands
and ell u n his back. T iurston laughed hit-
terly an was drawing another pistol, when
there started up before him a being before
whom he recoiled as from a pestilence! This
was the maniac prisoner “ho had. in some way,
managed to arrive upon thefiground in time to
take part in the struggle. is wen n was a
huge club, which he whirled about his ead with
a furious look.

“ Hu 1" he screamed. “You are the next.”

Thurston started back, for, brave as he was,
the encounter took him so completely by sur-
prise that for a moment he was a coward. The
sudden movement brou ht two of the outlaws
between the maniac an the object of hishate.
He uttered a wild scream of rage, and lifting
the heavy club, dashed the two optlaws sense—
less to the earth and rushed on in pursuit of
Thurston. , .

The second detachment poured in to the assmt—
ance of the first, and a tempest of steel encircled
the doomed Night-hawks. Man by man they
men can who have nothing,
to hope for in this ife. Twenty minutes from
the first assault, the Vigilantes stood triumph-
ant in the 

“ Let us ook for poor J 09.” said Sedley. “ He
went down in the first rush.” _

They turned over the bodies of the slain until

so; mes; aw“; .-..;

.  2 Hum»: <. an ..

 

 

.‘aw~1-.:m&tut,fm€ v a

as Night-hawk Bill.

 

they came to that of Joe Bagley. He was lying
where he fell, with the blood running from a
wound apparently in the brain. Sedley poured
some whisky from his flask and put itto his nos-
trils saying:

“ e is gone, poor fellow. I would sooner
have lost my right hand.”

At this moment, a strong hand seized the bot-
tle which he held, and the dead man sat up,
nodding to his friends.

“ Here’s lookin’ at ye,” he said, taking a hearty
pull. “ ’Bliged t’ ye, Sam; I wanted a drin
powerful bad.”

The Vigilantes burst into a loud laugh, as they
saw the supposed dead man rise. It was an ex-
ample of the ruling passion, strong in death.
The bullet had passed along the scalp and
stunned the old trapper, without inflicting any
Esrmanent injury. He rose, staggering a little,

0k another drink, and announced himself
ready for action, and was grievously disap-
pointed to hear that the battle was done.

Few prisoners had been taken, for the Night-
hawks fought so desperately, as to render that
impossible. But, they looked in vain for Thurs-
ton or Forbes. whom they expected to find
among the dead.

At this moment, one of the outlaws, who
was badly wounded, raised himself upon his
elbow.

" Thurston deserted us,” he hissed. “ I saw
him run like a coward, when he saw that he
was done for. Look out for hi m—he’s got Net-
tie. Look in Karl Peugh’s cabin; Joe knows
the lace,” and he fainted from loss of blood.

“ ere, boys,” said Joe, quickly. “ Lift up
this young fellow, and take good care of him.
He ain’t to be hurt, leastways till we comeback.
Go through the camp while we are gone, pick
11 all the horses, bury the dead, and camp down
ti 1 we come ag’in.”

He called out Sam Sedley, Happy Jim, the
two Fralicks, and, with Harry mounted and
rode away through the woods.

CHAPTER XIII.
rm: MANIAc’s VENGEANCE.

ANNETTE had remained in the outlaw camp,
in charge of the two men appointed by Thurs-
ton for that purpose, listening eagerly to the
sounds of battle, which came to them from the
pass. As the sound came nearer, the men began
to show symptoms of alarm, for they could tell
that their friends were being driven hack, and,
when the crack of the rifles ceased, and the rat-
tle of knives and hatchets alone could be heard,
they appeared to seek safety in flight. It was
at this moment, that Thurston burst out of the
pass, bare-headed, with blood upon his face, and
a pistol in his hand.

‘ Mount and away!” he cried, hoarsely.
“ The band are doomed beyond a doubt. You—
Bascom, bring Miss Annette‘s horse.”

The man obeyed, and Thurston assisted An—
nette to mount. In the mean time, the other
man had brought his own horse and that of
Thurston, and the party rode away by the Shore
0! the little lake, seeking an outlet which was
well-known to them. An hour’s ride brought
them out of the woods, and to a place where
several paths diverged.

 

 

“ Here we part, boys," said Thurston. “ It is
useless for us to try to keep together, after
what has happened. We shall be pursued in
the morning, and all of us will not (’S"a]w,
so it is better to give them all the trails we can.

The men struck into one of the side paths, and
disappeared. During this time, Conrad had
never removed his hand from the bridle of
Annette’s horse.

“ Where are you taking me?” she asked.

“ To Karl Peugh’s cabin,” was the reply.

“ Why do you take me there?”

“Your father is waiting for us; and from
there we will continue our flight.”

“ I want to go home,” she said, coolly.

“ You are not going there,” he replied. “I
tell you again that your father is at Peugh’s
cabin. Let us suppose that you go home and
that you could find your way through the
wo'ods, you would sacrifice your father by doing

“How?” she cried, starting.

“ You know that he loves you, and would
never leave Kansas without you. Neither would
I, for that matter, but my wishes are nothing
here. , He would go to his house after you,
though they hung him the next hour.”

“ He would indeed,” said Annette, trembling.
“I will go to Peugh’s with you, but upon one
condition. You are to give me your pistols, and
ride in front all the way.”

“ I agree," he cried, eagerly.

He gave up the pistols and took the lead, rid-
ing rapidly along the sheltered path he had
chosen. Not a word was spoken by either, but
she followed him through the darkness unhesi-
tutingly, until, descending a. little slope, they
came suddenly upon Peugh’s cabin. Adeath—
like stillness reigned about the place.

“ Stay here a moment until I look inside,” said
Thurston, as he dismounted.

He entered the passage, when a groan saluted
him, and he hurried on. Pushing open the last
door, he entered the dungeon, and saw Forbes,
bound hand and foot, and with his garments
half-burned from his person, lying upon the stone
floor. He uttered a hollow groan as he saw
Thurston. The young man drew his knife and
cut the cords. .

“ What does this mean?” he asked. “ Who
has done this?”

“The maniac,” whispered Forbes, in avoice
of agony. “ He came upon me suddenly, bound
me as you see, and burned me with the iron
rods until I fainted. Oh! don’t touch me for I
am as a burning coal.”

“All the fiends seem to conspire against us
during the last week," said Thurstsn. “ Our
sins are finding us out, it would seem.”

“ Don‘t preach,” cried Forbes, pettishly ;
“have you brou ht the men?”

“ No,” replied hurston. “ The Night-hawks
arfe scattered, killed or taken, and we alone are
so e.

“ Where is Annette?” hissed Forbes, starting
up on his elbow in spite of the pain. “ If you
have not saved her I Will have your life.”

“Annette is with me," replied Thurston,

“Where is Peugh’s body?”
“The madman carried it away with him, and
soon after I heard him ride 01!, on my horse.

 

 

 

 have ., ,l...._.w...

 

  

 

 

 

 

See if you can lift me and carry me into the
cabin.”

Bya great effort, which drew low ejaculations
of pain from the scorched and bruised man, he
was carried out and laid upon Peugh's bed.

“ Call in Annette,” whispered the sufferer.

Thurston stepped to the door and called to
Annette that her father was within, but hurt.
She would not believe him until she heard the
feeble voice of Forbes calling her, when she
sprung from the saddle and ran in, only to see
him extended helpless upon the low bed.

“Oh, father, father!" she sobbed, “has all
your evil life led only to this?”

“ There, girl,” he said, harshly, “I am hardly
inacondition to hear you patiently. If you
have nothing better to say than that, you had
better get your horse and ride home.”

She said no more, but set to work with
woman’s quickness in pre aring a soothing 10'
tion for his burned back. or soft hand applied
it in a way which did not pain him, while
Thurston sat near, rising only to hand her what
she wanted.

“ Listen, my girl,” the wounded man said,
when he was more at ease; “ l have but a little
while to live. In the struggle with this
maniac I have injured myself internally, and in
a few hours at most I shall have seen the last of
earth.”

“ Don’t say that, father,” she pleaded. “ You
will live; you will lead a new life and be
happy.” .

“Bah! I cannot lives new life if I would.
No; the sands of my life are running very low,
and in a few hours all that is mortal of Richard
Forbes will be ready for the grave. Hushl I
thought I heard a noise.”

“ It was fancy,” said Annette. “ You heard
nothing.”

“ You must keep your promise to Thurston,
my darling. I would have left you in better
care if I could; but, at least, he lows you, and
there is money enough for on to live rich
and contented, if you will. wrought much
wickedness for your sake, Annette. Ha! He
is here!”

As he spoke there came a. sudden rush of. feet,
and there darted in at the half-open door the
gigantic figure of the Maniac Avenger! H15

and still held the heavy club with which he
had beaten down the outlaws, and which was
still stained with blood.

“ Stop!" he cried, as Thurston started up with
a knife in his hand. “If you lift the knife I
will kill you! Down, you dog! Do you dare to
rise against me?”

Thurston fell back upon the stool, panting
like a wild beast brought to buy.

“You escaped me in the fight,” the wildman
hissed, “ and your horses were swift, but i know
how to ride, tool I am here for vengeance.
Ahl who is that? Do angels come down and
watch over the death of a fiend 2!”

His eyes rested u n the face of Annette.
and the fierce light ied out of them in a ino-
ment.

“ Little angel—little angel!” he whispered;
“how you come back to earth to teach me
goodnessl’ I

“ Give me a pistol l’ whispered Thurston,

Night-hawk Bill.

 

  

  

hoarsely. “ This demon will kill us all. Girl—
do you not see that he is a. madman?”

‘ Don‘t fear me, little angel,” said the mad.
man, whose fierce countenance had become
suddenly changed to childlike sweetne s. “ You
have never wronged inc—never. Three men
did it all—Nightrhauk Bill, be is dead; Dick
Forbes, who lies yonder; and this man.”

He pressed his hand upon his forehead, and a
puzzled ex )ression came over his face.

Conrad hurston, whose heart was all evil,
took advantage of the pause. His knife was in
his hand, and making a single cat-like leap he
struck at the bosom of the maniac, who threw
up his arm to ward off the blow. The keen
blade passed between the bones of the forearm
and here clung, and steppin back a pace the
maniac raised his club in one and and struck.
Annette uttered a wild scream of a ony, and.
Conrad relinquished his hold of the nife and
fell back dead, before he struck the floor.
moment after the rush of feet was heard, and
Harry Sanderson, followed by his friends, dart-
ed into the cabin. The took in the tableau at
a glance, and with a Wild shout Harry ran in
between the maniac and Annette.

“ Stand off, old man!" he cried, “or I shall
do you mischiefl Off, I say i”

The club dropped from the band of the mad-
man, and he gazed at the young adventurer in a
wild, fixed way.

“ Who speaks?” he murmured. “ It is a.
voice from the other world. Where am 11‘
My brain is all on fire, and it is coming back
to me.”

“ I don’t know what to think," said Harry,
in an excited tone. “ Would you like to hear
m ‘Igme?’ k kl "

‘ es, yes; spea uic .

“ Harry Sandersoig.” y

He uttered a strange, hoarse cry, and made a
single step toward Harry. The sound of that
forgotten name had brought back the memory
of the demented man, and crying: “Harry—
my boy—my Harry l” he fell to the hard floor
of the cabin, the blood from his wounded arm
soaking into the floor and dyeing his white hair
and heard.

Son and father were united after their long
separation.

 

CHAPTER XIV.
CONCLUSION. V

A WEnKlater and Colonel Sanderson, whose
life hung upon a thread, was convalescent, but
Forbes was growing weaker. The two sick
men sat opposite each other, propped up by pil-
lows, regarding each other strangely. The col
one] was no longer a maniac, for the shock of
his son’s coming had given him back 'the reason
whichashock had taken away. Mrs. Sedley
had also come to the cabin, and for the present
the Sedley family made their quarters at the
place. Annette would not desert her father,
and it almost required force to make her leave
him long enough to take rest.

“I am going to make a confession ” said
Forbes, one day, “and I want you all hear
me. My name is Hugh Graham. and I was for
years the trusted agent of Colonel Sanderson.
In an evil hour 1 robbed him of money and

  

 

-m .-, g1“; _. .. .z...»..... a. an”...

80

 

Night-hawk Bill.

 

bonds to the extent of one hundred thousand
dollars and fled for Kansas. That was ten years
ago, and heforelreached St. Jo Iwas in self
robbed of nearly all I had in the world. set
up business in Leavenworth with what re—
mained, but I could not make friends and I
failed again. My wife died, soon after, and col-
lecting what money I could, I came to this
place. My misfortunes, for such I regard them,
had made me a hater of mankind, and I deter-
mined to prey upon them. With this design I
fdrmed the band known as the “ Night-hawks.”
Our business was robbery and horse—stealing,
and our men were scattered over many miles of
territor . Four years ago. while at Leaven-
worth, met a. man who had known me as the
agent of Colonel Sanderson, and this man
wrote to him where I was to be found.”

, The colonel nodded.

“He came b mere accident tomy cabin in
the woods, one ay, at sunset. I professed re-
pentance and promised to make restitution.

hat night he was seized by some of my men

'and carried to this place, where he has been

‘ dead.

kept a prisoner until his escape upon the night
when Sediey’s house was burned. I used him
like a dog, and his revenge was just. I can say
no more. ’ v
After a moment’s pause, he continued:
“Before I die, I would do the little justice in
my power. In the Planters’ Bank is money to
the amount ofa hundred thousand dollars. It
is the aggregate earnings of the Night-hawks,
for the year now passing, and which is not yet
divided. The Night-hawks are gone, and the
money is yours by right. In this memorandum-
book you will find a record of the horses and
other property stolen in this section, and dis-
sed of, with the amount received for each.
on can make restitution. it on will, but I
would be glad it enough could kept to place
my E‘oor child above want.”
‘ he money must be returned,” said Annette;
“ I would not touch a penny to save myself from
starvation.”

“ Noble irll" cried Colonel Sanderson.
“ Look you, raham, I will take charge of this
good girl. I know that she is good—1t is writ

ton on her face. And 1 give you my solemn
promise that she shall be treated in all respects
as my own child.”

“ I am satisfied,” murmured Graham. “ Kiss
me, Nettie. I have been a had father to on all
these years, but I love you—my dang tor—I
love you i”

She stooped and kissed him, and tnrnin on
his illow with a gaspin sigh, he yielde up
his 'te. The only soun heard was the low
sobbing of Annette, as she bent above the lifeless

oia .

Flew words are needed now. The unha py
man was buried not far from the cabin, wit a.
rough stone at the head of his grave, marked
only with his name and age. Colonel Sanderson
recovered and kept his word faithfully to the
Restitution was made as far as possxble,
but some of the claimants were dead, or had re-
moved from the country, and quite a large sum
remained from the bank deposit. Out of this
amount the buildings of the Sadie 5 Were re-
stored, and they were made comforts le. Happy

 

was given money enough to make him a rich
man, in his simple tribe, and he returned and in
time was restored» to his ancient honors, as he
proved himself areformed man. Colonel San-
derson, taking Annette to St. Louis, put her in
a school, where she remained three years, after
which she went to New York to reign over Col-
onel Sanderson’s home. Three months after,
she and Harry were married.

 

Four years after the destruction of the Night—
hawks, there was a. happy party at Sedley’s, at
the raising of a great barn for Sedlev had

rown rich in those years. r here was Happy

ill, who had stopped for a few days on his
march to attend a meeting of Indian “ Masons”
in Colorado. There were Joe Bagley, a little
more grizzled, but the same hardy old man as of
yore; Jim Sedley, now a fine young man. des-
perately in love with pretty Rosa Dian, the
daughter of a settler; Sam Sedley, grown very
corpulent and a justice of the peace; the
brothers Fralick, the life of the whole arty.

The barn had been raised, and Jim gedley was
standing on the upper plate, when he saw a lady
and two gentlemen riding up the road at a
smart pace. He looked hard at them for a mo-
ment; they came nearer, and then he uttered a

anther-like yell and came down from the plate
ike a cat, much to the horror of Rosa Dean.

“ Hurrah!” he yelled. “ Come along, Joe; it’s
Harry Sanderson and his father!”

The party had scarcely reached the big gate
when they were met by their old friends, w ose
greeting was warm enough to make them feel
at home. And what a cheer went up when
they recognized in Harry’s wife the Nettie Forbes.
they used to know !”

‘ This is the place for me,” said Barry. “ Joe,
1you old villain, give me your hand again. We

ave come to end our days in Kansas. ’
THE END.

DIME DIALUGUES AND SPEAKERS

F012 SCHOOL EXHIBIT] 0N8
AND HOME ENTER TA INME'JV TS.

Dialogues. Nos. 1 to34 inclusive. 15 to 25 popu'
ar dialogues and dramas in each book. Each vol-
ume 100 pages 12mo.

Speakers, Nos. 1 to 25 inclusive. Each speaker
100 pages 12mo. containing from 50 to 75 pieces.

YOUNG PEOPLE’S SERIES.

Dime Book of Winter Sports.
Dime Book of Summer Athletic Sports.
Dime Gents' Letter Writer.
Dime Book of Eti uette.
Dime Book 0 Verses.
Dime Book of Dreams.

Dime Fortune Teller.
Dime Ladies’ Letter Writer.
Dime Lovers' Casket.
Dime Ball-Room Companion.
Dime Book of 100 Games.
Dime Chess Instructor
Dime Book of lieuty

For sale b, all newsdealers. or sent. post-paid, on
receipt of p ce—ten cents.
BEADLE AND ADAMS, Pcsmsmns
98 William Street. New ‘l’ork.

 

 

 

 

 

 

l neerhunter, the Boy Scout ohhe Grout North Woods.
By Oll Cmuncs.

B Blslnio Bill, from Boyhood to Manhood. ByCal. Pren-
tise luzrnhnin.

8 Kit Carson, King OiUIllrlrl. Bv Albert W. Aiken.

4 Gordon Lillie, the Buy-interpreter orthe Pswnses. By
hlnl'or. H. ll. Sim dnni.

5 Br n Admin, ld Griuly‘s Bay Pnrd. By Colonel
Prentlu Ingrnhnm.

6 Deadw'ood luck an alloy. By Edwnrd L. Wheeler.

7 “phi l:Bili, the Pinto] Prince. By Colonel Punliu
nxrn nm.

8 The Prairie Ranch. Dr Jose 1: E. Badger, Jr.

9 Roving Joe: The Hillary on Border Buy.” By A.

H. Post.
10 Texas: J-ek. th- Muusnz Kin; By Colonel Prentlsl

ngrn em.
11 Oil-Pie] Skyilrir. A Sung o! School-d- Scrnpes and
College CI rorI. By Major . B. Btoddnrd’.
12 Mariya“ nreh. By Jolevh E. Badger, Jr.
18 Roving Ben. By John J. Mfll’lhlli.
l4 8 ring Steel, King ohhs Bmh. liy J. E. Bridger, Jr.
15 Willing-Awake George, the Boy Pioneer. By Edward
'i sit.
16 The Boy “'izard. By Barry Ringcoid.
17 Peter l'e per-ng the Greenhorn i'rmnGothAm. By

Noah u .

18 Adi-lit on the Prairie, end Amateur iiuntern
on the Bulqu Range. By Oil Coonms.

19 The Fortune Hunter; or, Kevin Joe was Miner,
Cir-they, Tflppel' and Hunter. By A. . Post.

20 Tra per Tom, the Wand imp. By T. C. llnrbnuzh.

21 Yo! ow “air, the Boy Olin-tonne leneel. By Col.
Prenties In nhnm.

B2 The Snow rail. By T. C. linrbnnzh.

as old Gallliy Adams, the Bear Tamer. By Dr. Frank

ewe .

M Wood: and Waters. By Capt. Frederick “'ilitulker.

26 A Rollin Rhone: incidents in the Career on Sen and
Lnnd ui‘ oi. Prentils ingrnhnm. By Wm. R Eystur.

26 Red River Rover-u. By C. Dunning Ci- .

27 Plnza nnd_Pinln; or, Wild Adventures 0 “Buckskin
Snm."( n . Snm. S. Hall.) By Col. i'. inmhun.

98 The Swor Prince. 1 no Romantic Life of Col. Mon-
stery. By CA L Frederick Whittaker.

$9 Snow-shoe on. By T. C. Herhaugh.

80 Paul do Lucy, the French Bust Charmer. By C.
Dunning Clerk.

31 Round the Cnmp Fire. By Jmph E. Badger, Jr.

33 White Beaver, the lndlen Medicine Chief. By Col.
Prentlsl inzrnhnm.

83 The oy Crunnder. By Gui. Fred. Whittaker.

B4 The Issue of the Great ite Sing, and, Camp
and annoc. By C. Dunning Clark.

011] Tar Knu ekle sud iiis Buy Chums. By R. Stnrbnnii.

The Dashing Dragoon: or. The Story of Gen. Georne

A. Custer. isy Cnpi. Fred. Whittaker.

85
86
87 Night-lian George. By Col. Prentiss ingrnhnm.
88 ibe

The Boy Exiles of riu. By 1’. C. Herbnnzh.
89 The Young Bear Hunters. Bv Morril Redwing.
40 3 ft film, the Led with - Level Head. By Edward

i ett.
41 The Sr‘tier’fi Ban. By Edwud S. Fills.
eon’ll 0mm. By c. bunnan Clark.
evolver. By Capt. Frsd. Whittaker.

4A. The Loet Boy Whalers. By T. C. Hnrbnuxh.

45 Bronco Billy, the Smldls Prince. By Col. ingrnhnm.

40 Pick. the Stowaway. B Chsrles Mnrril.

4? The Colorado oyn; or, licon an indigo Plantation.

By Joseph E. B Ker, Jr.

48 The I’M-spas Hunters; or, New York Boys in
Buenol Ayrns. By T. C. bunt .

41! The Adventurous Life of Nebruk. Chm-lie.
By Col. Prentiss inn-Ilium.

50 he]: Kerry and Tom, ths Time Chempionfirochm
By dept. Fred. Whittaker.

61 The Your}? Lnnd-Luhber. By C. Dunning Clark.

52 The Boy ates-then.  1'. C. Hnrbiluzh.

53 lionth ilarr 5 m, The ouutry Boy Adrift in the
City. By Chnr a My rrls.

54 Oeiii'ornln Joe, the Mysterious Plnlnlmln. By Col.
i’rentise lnmhmu.

55 Tip Trend, the Flo-ten By Edw-rii Willaii.

 

56 The Snow "uni/err: or, Winter in the Woods. By
Barry de Forrest.
57 Harry Some", the Sailor Boy Magician]. By s. w,

Pearce.

58 The Adventgrous Life of Cu tuin Jack, the
Border Boy. y Col. Prentiss ingrn min.

59 Lame Tim, the Mule Boy of the Mines. By Clinrlel

lll'i'iB.

60 The Young Trnii iiuntern; or, New York Boys in
Grin] Lllnd. By '1'. C. linrbnugh.

61 The laer iiuutersi air, The Colored: Boys in Ele-
phnn't Lnnii. By JL‘It: n E. Bridger. Jr.

68 Doctor Carver, the ‘ Evil Spirit ” of the Plain. By
Col. Prentius lllfinhnm.

68 Rigel: lklorse ill, the Bandit Wrecker. By Roger
. r)llC .

64 Yuun Dick Talbot; or A Boys Rough and Tumble
Flgilt rmn New York in ésiuonns. By A. w. Mixers.

5 The Boy Pilot; or, '1 he Island “'recker. By Col.

l’rentiu inzruhnm.

68 The Deeert Rover 07, Stowaway Dick Among the
Arab». liy ('imvies l\ nrril.

6’? Tlexnsh Chm-lie, the Boy Ranger. By Col. Prentiu '
nqu am.

68 Little Rifle; or, The Young Fur Hunten. By Cnptnin
“ llrnill ” Adums.

69 The Young Nihillni; or A Yankee Buy Among a].
Rllflilliii. liy Clulries Mnnls.

70 Pony the Cowboy? orY The Young hlnrshnll’e Reid.
liy ilan H. ii. 51ml nrd, nil—Scout.

71 REFRolel't and liin Bear. By Cnpinin “ Bruin "

( mm.

72 The Ice Elephant. Bv Capt. Frederick Whittaker.

73 Tiling Young Moose-Hunters. liy William H.
: mining.

74 The Boy Coral-Fishers. By nger Starbnek.

75 Revolver Billy, the Boy Rnngcr 01' Tune. By Col.
Prentiss inmhnm.

76 The Condor Killers. By T. C. iinri’mugh.

77 Lud Lit‘fiuhecin, the Young Tiger Fighter. By Roger

tnr uc .
78 Flatbollt Fred. By Edward Wliiett
79 Boone. the Hunter. By Captain F. “'hltlhkor.
80 Kentucky Ben, the Long Rifle of the Cucndu. By
Roger Starbuck.
81 The Kit Cut-non Club. By T. C. iiurhugb.
82 Little Buck. the Boy Guide. By Bnrry Ringgnld.
83 Pony Bob, the Reckless Rider. By Col. P.1nmhnm.
84 Cup all: Fiy-by-Ni ht. By Joseph E. Bad er. Jr.
85 Captain Ralph, the ouuz Explorer. By C. . Clnrk.
86 illiirle Dan Rat-kn. By Morris Redwing.
8’? The Menagerie iiuntern. By Mn'. H. Grenville.
88 The iio ' 'irumpn; or, Life Among t e GipIien. By
J. M. l oil‘mnn.
89 ’imnznhore Lile. By C. D. Clerk.
90 Roving Iiifimiineter’sLiitieScout. lin. C. Hub-ugh.
9| Oregon Jot-h! the Wixnrri Rifle. By Roger Starbuck.
“2 iiurriossne kit. By A. F. Holt.
98 Jumping Jake, the Colurlldo Circus Buy. By Bryn:
lininilriviml.
94 Rims Spence. ill" BfOfld'mm Bny- By Ed. Wiliett.
05 Moscow to Siberia; or, A Yankee Boy to the Rescue.

lh' Cllllrlrs )Ir-rI-is.
90 Fightiuu Fred. By T. C. Hnrhsn h.
97 Cruluc oi‘ihe Flynwny. By C. unnlng Club
9% The Roy H Hunter. ii !\ I]. H. B. Stoddmd.
99 The “Tllii-S ' cert. By an t. Charles Howard.
100 The Snowvfi loo 'i‘rnii. y St. George bum
101 Murluno, the Ottawa Girl. By Edwnrri S. Ellie.
102 The Flynwny Afloat. By C. Dunning Clark.
103 Put Mulloney’n Adveniuren: or, Silver Tongue
the Dnmtnh Queen. By C. L. Edwardl.
104 The iioy i‘ronneetor. By Roger Surhuck.
105 Minonee, the Womi Witch. By Edwin Emerson.
106 The Boy Crush-ere. By Edwsrd Willem“
10‘? The Border Rovers. B J. Milton Hofl'mlm.
105 Alaska, the Wolf-Queen. y Cspt. Howard Lincoln.

Beadlu’l Boy’s Library is for sale by all Newsdenlen,
five uni: per copy, or sent by mail on receipt afelx cents Inch.
BEADLE AN” ADAMS, Pubillherl,
98 William Street, New York.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

109 Shirlllgtlun Jlm, tho White Mun’| Friend. By Edward
A ll.

“0 l’lucky Joe. lhe Roy Avenger. llv J. M. Hnfl‘mnn.

111 The Border Gun nkoru “y .lmm-n L. Bowen.

11$ Len-Ilunded I’M By .llmé’rh E. Budzer. Jr.

118 The Illvcr lllllun. lly Cupt. J. l“. (‘. Adnms.

114 Alone on the l’lnlnn. llv l' wurd Willett.

115 Silver llorn, uud llla lull. Firmlunth. By Roger
Sturbuck.

110 Exglolts ofllczekluh Bmlth, the Buckwoodslunn.
lly Jmurwn Rodman.

117 The Young Muutnngcrn. By (3. Dunning l‘lnrk.

118 (Nd Tru I; -r, the Moy Hivuis. fly Hurry Riuuuold.

111) Center hot. tho Whitn Prow. Bv 'l‘. C. llurlnmgh.

190 A "at Troll; or, Chu'k Cleverly Among the 'l'urlurs.
ll Clmriel Morris.

21 l unter Pnrd Ben. By Roger Slnrhuck.

22 The Enqulmnux‘ Queen. By G. Wuldo Browne.

23 Thu, the lloy Acrlvhut. By l'lmrleu .\lnrrin.

24 neon lleule. lllr llnnlurl-‘irl. llvllenvyl'l'homnl.

25 om Tabor, u... lloy Fugitive. ny- omy Riuuuoid.

26 Mlnk Cont, lilo Dx-ntII-Silnl. lly .lnl. E. llmlgur, Jr.

' 2? The Deer Hunters. ll; John J. Muniluil.

125 \Voll‘Cnp; or. The Night-lluwkl of the Fire-Lands.
Bv Cunt. Chnn. Hnwurd.
129 Swlvllfieaopur; or, The Mountain Heroine. By Edwnrd
l E .

80 Keetuen, Qureu n the Plains. By Perry R. St. John.

81 Wlatuh, thoChild Spy. lSyGeorgu Git-lunn.

32 The lnlnntl Trapper. lly Churlu Hownrd.

BB Tho Fore-t h‘peotc lly Edwnrd Wiiietl.

84 \Vllll Nut, the Tm: . lly Wm. it. Eystrr.

85 The Silver Bugle. By Lieul. Co‘. l-lnzelwn.

86 The l’rulrlu Trapper. llyC Dunning Clark.

8? The Antelope llov. lly Gen. i en.

“8 Long Shot; 4vr.Tho wurquido. .y Cnpl.Cnmstock.

K9 Colonel Crockett, thr llpnr King. lly l‘. E. Lunulla.

40 "Id Pugh, lhr. ll-Illltuim'ul'. lly Lewis W. Canon.

l4l ’l‘he Glunt ll My Hurry Hll‘llll’d. .

193 Illnek l’nnthc . he llllll'Jlile. By .1. E. Badger

143 Cnruon thulluide. By Lieul. J. H. Ruudolph

44 Kent cl.» Ranger By Edward 9 Elih.

146 lllll llobhlnn, Hunter. By A nrd Willult.

1-1" The llulf-llrced “hill. 8" Jim. E. llndgur. Jr.

14? The Mnnkod Arengor. By ul. l‘rentiun lunruhnm.

148 hP'ut. the 'lrnpper nnd lndluu Fighter. lly Paul J.

"5.0:".

140 The Elk Ill-nun; or, The Giant Brutluerl. By T.
C. Hnrhnugn.

160 The lloy Mnntunz-lluntert or. Enulnlla. tho
llvuulllui Amuznn. Ily Frmivrir'il W hiltukur.

151 Frnnk Yn m, tiw Yuuuu Trapper; or, Mountain
Kuln's “'nrnl (y 'pll E. llndlzer, Jr.

152 “’llll Ilnu ' n llv (ill I onmel.

153 Lynx-(‘qu or, l-‘mn'l'nq-nnu‘ Among the Sioux. By

l’nul llihln.
164 The Chn lou Toxun Rider: 0'. Red Bullnlo,
dunt. r. By linrry St. Geurzn.

Mui tin- lll'l'

155 1) Alt ll -k n Doom. By Jon. E. Hmigcr,Jr.

156 F 1% llull, the m;- Spy. My [)1] Comm-s.

15? N l." the Gold Hunlrr. B\' i’. ll. Myl-rn.

158 Kidnapped lllokx or, The FoLu oru’m Fln.‘ Fly. By

'. Stnull'y l‘luntlamm.

159 Suln‘n Long Troll; or, The Twin Scouts. By W. J.
Hamilton.

160 flunk Trlplet’n Vow. By Hurry Hnmrd.

16l The Mad Sklp or. By R. Suulnul'k.

162 The Troppl-r 'Iug. Ily Mnj. Max M rtine.

It'll filmon Kenton lluulxr. By l-Iumrmu Rndmrn.

104 The Boy Chlel"; or, mm. um. Culnlmct. By on
(200.112..

165 The Trader Trnlmr.

mu (lltl Jupe’l Clcu'. lly Mrs. Orv-m 'quor

16? The Young Trnller. By W. J. llnnnllm.

lflfi The Specter Spy. By Mui. llrwl! W. Curson.

169 Lnnk Lute, the Old Culurudo Hunter. By E. W

1?

1

1

l

I

1

 

Do." It

By J. Stanluy llcndenon.

Archer.
0 The Whlte Wolf. By Ellwnnl \Vlllvtt.
71 The Swamp Gnldv. ly W. N. Mario".
72 The Ynnkec l’odtllur. By C. Dunning Clark.
1'8 The Scout and Ills Young Chum. By Warren

Sl. n.
:4 Blush-ml“: Tom'n Musk. By Geo. D. Gilbert.‘

5 The llucknkln lllder. By Guy Greenwood.

 

1

’le The Ruunttcr’n Surprise. Hg Mrs. H. J. Thomas.

'3’? For! r Follow Scouts. By J. .tnuley Hendemnn.

7R 0qu Kit and Ill! (lonlrndel. lly Jns. E. Budger,lr,
9 l‘ rlo Grlll’~ Dlruulnc. lly Hurrylluznrd.

19“) 'l c Murkml Mlnur. 15y Lieut. Col. Hflzultine.

1R1 The “'lld lluntrcI-n. By Capt. Bruin Adaml.

182 The lln‘urt’llocoy. B)"; Moro O. Rolfe.

188 July lloon’n Tooth-n. y lugoldlby North.

18-1 Ynnkcc E h’n llllommn. By J. "roaster.

85 The “'lly \ lteh’n “’urtl. By Edwin E. Ewing.

Pl Frnnk, the Furrier. By J. Stanley Henderson.

: lllunu, thg Fulr lllountninuer. B ' Cnpt. F. Whlttuker.

3

1
l
1
1

.lnok'n flnuro. By hlrr. Ann b.1’nrler.
ll Burn, tln- Swulr.p Smut. By W. J. Hulnllt’m.
90 The. lln-hllu: Trooper. By Frederick H. Dewey.
91 The Boy Brln'c. l.l_v Jnnws L. Bone".
1973 Snndy Blll, ul"l‘uxns. By Edward Willett.

193 lblnrry “'lnlale’a Long Chane. By Wm. R.
\‘$ 0'-

194 Creeper Cnto, the Shadow Swamp Trniler. By
brain-rick Down).

195 The Ranger Detective. By Harry annrd.

196 Gypsy Mug, the Mountain Witch. By C. Dunning
Clark.

19? The Branded Cuptuln. By W. .l. Hmnllton.

198 Old Cronnfiro‘n (“I-lulu. By Cupt. Chnrlca Howard.

199 Yohru luck, (in: Tu-xnn. By W. J. Hamilton.

200 The Norm-lo“ llnntcr. By George W. Robinson.

201 Thu Ynnkce Cnptlven. By Edward Willult.

202 Todd)": Long Trnll. lly Edward 5. Ellis.

203 (Ilrl llunk, he llernlll. By Edward W. Arclwr.

204 Gooneheull'n Bent flhot. By Jul. E. llmlgnr, Jr.

205 The lhtohmnn’a Dread. By Capt. Chu. Howard.

206 Klt Burt’s Monk. By W. J. Humiltou.

20? Elude-Eyed Tlm. By C. Dunnlng Clark.

208 The Vlllnzc Sport. By Jmnel L. Bowen.

209 Burk Burl-‘1: Pluck. By Edward “'lilet.

210 The Tell-Tale Bullet. By J. Stanley llcudenon.

211 The lloy Surveyor. By W. .l. Hnmlllnu.

212 Yankee Drover Swlpcu. By Sunlin llublnr.

213 Sllvcr Clty Tom. By James L. Bowen.

21-1 Nlck, tho Dt-tcctive. By Edwin Emerson.

2H; Mustang thlcr Roy. By Albert W. Alkcn.

216 The Dullotn Dutchman. By Mnj. Illnx Murtlno.

217 Yankee Jonh, the Rover. Bv 1?. ll. BLIknnp, M. D.

218 New York Ned ln Cullt’oruln. By W. J.

ilxuniit-m.

219 Kentucky Kuto‘n Shot. By Edward Willett.

220 ’l‘rlnuo Frnnk’s Illvnl. Ily 1‘qu .l. l‘n-scott.

22! Doctor ling, Dutcctlvc. Ily Lewis Jay Swift.

222 Sly Snm'u Rnure. By Loni! Learn". M- D.

228 0111 Nnney’s \Vnrd. By Lieut. Col. Huwltine.
Run-Iv July ?l. .

224 Ruttloputo, the Ntbob. By Scott B. Sherwood.
Rvudy July 25.

225 vazht-llnwk Bill; or, The New York Spornmen'l
Claw. By W'. J. llulnillon. Ready August 4.

226 The Mnnked Munluc. By Marc 0. Rolfe
Renlly August u. -

22'? Burney’n Bold Brush.
llomly Augunt I8.

228 The Deadwood Sport»: By Llunl. S. G. Lao-lug.
Randy August 95.

By Jmner L. Bowen.

Bellllle’l Boy"! lerury In for min by nil Now-dame",
five cents per copy, or sent hv "mil on laceipt of le cant! each.

BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers,
98 \Vllflnm Street, New York.